


Unexpected

by NegansDoll



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Humor, I don’t want to add too many tags and give the story away, POV Dean Winchester, Reader-Insert, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Supernatural Season 12, Supernatural season 13, somewhat follows canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-02-13 12:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 49
Words: 296,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21494506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegansDoll/pseuds/NegansDoll
Summary: When you suddenly wake up in a world where the Winchester brothers, demons, angels and all things that go bump in the night are real, you only have one question - “Why?”. To make things even more confusing, the only clue you have is a letter and it’s not even addressed to you.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester & Reader, Dean Winchester & You, Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You, Sam Winchester/You (Platonic)
Comments: 740
Kudos: 366





	1. I Don’t Think We’re in Kansas . . . Uh Kentucky . . . Toto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first work of fan fiction and it has been inspired by several different authors and stories. I will list them because their work deserves to be enjoyed by as many people as possible. 
> 
> I have been thinking about this story for months and finally decided to try writing it down to get it out of my head. It will be a slow burn, but I have many exciting things and story arcs rolling in my head that I can’t wait to share with those you want to read. I don’t want to add too many tags or give too much away and spoil it! But, trust me, it’s gonna be good.
> 
> If you can, please take a moment to leave a comment and let me know if you would be interested in reading in more or have any constructive criticism. Enjoy the journey!
> 
> I would like to thank each of these authors and their amazing stories that inspired this piece of fiction. Without their amazing works of art, I would never have had the courage to write this. If you are at all interested in this story, you will LOVE their work!
> 
> * “A Wish Come True (Rewrite)” by Sakurablossom4 - Special shout out for reading the first few chapters before I published! You rock! 😘 
> 
> * “The Rookie” by DandelionDreaming - Thank you too for taking the time to beta my first few chapters. You’re amazing! 😘 
> 
> * ”What the Actual Fuck” and “I’ll Wait For You” by KBeautimous 
> 
> *”Our Little Secret” by sis_tafics
> 
> *”The Curses We Utter” by Knightsin_Plaid_555

You instinctively wrapped your arms a little tighter around yourself as the brutal, cold December air whipped around you, your vision occasionally hindered by your hair being blown around from underneath your black, knit cap. Even in your warmest peacoat jacket, the wind felt sharp and unforgiving, especially against your exposed hands and cheeks, turning them a rosey pink. You uttered a small, “Fuck me!” and walked a little faster towards your car. 

The 10 minute walk from the hospital to your car in the employees’ parking garage was usually a nice way to unwind from your shift, but this morning, it just added to your fatigue. It was 7:45am on a typical Thursday morning. There was tons of traffic on the street, car horns honking every so often, the occasional yell of “MOVE IT!” or “COME ON!” from angry drivers. It felt like everyone else walking down the street, but you, had a cup of coffee or was stuffing a quick breakfast down their gullet. You, on the other hand, were just trying not to freeze to death while daydreaming about being at home, wrapped up in your gravity blanket and drifting off to a deep slumber, while the rest of the world carried on about their day. 

You were used to working 3 days in a row as a nurse in the ER, because you loved having 4 days off in between shifts. But, after that third night, you were usually pretty beat and ready to collapse. It had been a long 8 years since you graduated nursing school and began your career, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

You loved helping people, saving lives and you were kind of an adrenaline junkie. That’s probably why you decided to stay on night shift, while most of your other co-workers had made the switch to day shift. It was definitely more exciting and unpredictable at night. Plus, who wants to get up at 5:30am every day for work? *_shudder_*

After several more punishing minutes of Kentucky winter air, you felt a glimmer of hope when you spotted your Kia Soul just a few hundred yards away. Yes, you knew it was the “hamster” car from all of those silly commercials, and you had even laughed when the car salesman suggested it to you when you traded in your old hunk of junk that had finally died. However, as soon you slipped into the front seat, it was like something clicked; you were in love. 

You and your trusty “hamster mobile” had made numerous back and forth adventures across the country, from the a solo hiking adventure to the Grand Canyon, to a road trip to Key West and even to the Four Corners Monument. She had been a faithful travel companion and you wouldn’t trade her for the world. 

When you finally made it to the sanctuary of your car, and turned your key in the ignition, you sent up a silent prayer in thanks for heated seats, “_Oh, thank Chuck for small luxuries_”. After your first winter as a nurse, you had treated yourself and had them installed in your car. You were still convinced it was some of the best money you ever spent.   
You listened to the hum of the engine and let the radio become background noise as you began to thaw out and started the internal debate that you had with yourself every morning once you got off work. “_Stop and get something to eat or go home and shower and fix myself something? Fast food or home? Fast food or home? I’m so tired. I don’t want to cook, but the thought of interacting with chipper people right now. . . . Ugh!_”. As your thoughts raced in your head, you began to pay attention to the music coming from your radio. A slow smile crept across your face as the familiar tune almost lulled you to sleep right there in the parking lot . . . 

  
_Once I rose above the noise and confusion_

_Just get to a glimpse beyond the illusion_

_I was soaring even higher, but I flew too high_

  
The words wrapped around you like a warm blanket and gave you a renewed energy. You suddenly felt like you had enough strength to go home and cook breakfast yourself. After all, you did have the next 4 days off to rest and recuperate. 

As Kansas continued to play in the background, you pulled out of the parking lot and made the 20-minute drive home. Your mind lingered over all the patients you had that night, including a sweet 8 year old girl who had an unexpected allergic reaction to peanuts and a 79 year old grandfather who had been out with his wife for their 50 year anniversary when he suddenly had a heart attack. Thankfully, both were stable when you left. 

There was also a very handsome 38 year old who was in a minor car crash due to a drunk driver. He had flirted shamelessly with you and you almost gave him your number, but chickened out at the last minute. He had seemed nice enough and was definitely a snack. He was tall with dark, short hair, firm muscles and clean shaven. His sparkling blue eyes and relentless charm had been the topic of conversation among the nursing staff most of the night. But in the end, you just didn’t see the point; there had been no “spark” beyond the physical attraction. Plus, since he was a smoker, he smelled like tobacco and that was a major turn off for you.   
  
You were mostly an introvert, preferring to spend time alone either at home or traveling by yourself. Sure, you had a couple of close friends that you spent time with, occasionally for a night out or a trip to the movies, and you made sure to check in with your two brothers and parents at least once a week. However, you had never found that one person you wanted to spend all your time with; that person who you never got sick of. 

As you made the final turn into your neighborhood, you clicked the little button over your visor, opening up your garage so you could safely stow away your car for the day. You turned off the engine, slinked out of your seat and immediately started to strip off your clothes, tossing your scrubs into the washer before heading into the kitchen from the garage.

Making your way towards the bathroom, you spotted your Christmas tree in the living room and felt warmth beam from inside. You loved your little home and were probably a little too obsessed with decorating for the holidays, but it made you happy. Deep down, you loved the Christmas season and yes, you were _that person_ that started playing holiday music before Halloween. 

The cold tile of the bathroom floor sent a shiver down your spine. You turned on the water and let the steam envelop you for a few moment before sliding off your bra and panties. The hot water felt orgasmic, pounding against your back as you stepped into the shower. It was always nice to wash away the stress and worries of your latest shift at the end of the night. When you were thoroughly cleaned, your exited the shower and dried off quickly, before using the towel to wrap your hair.

You exited the bathroom and the stark contrast from the warm air in the shower and the cool air in your bedroom made every hair on your body stand up straight. You felt goosebumps shiver up and down your arms and your nipples perked up to attention. You quickly dressed in a pair of black panties, black shorts and a white tank top. You rubbed some “sweat pea” lotion from Bath and Body on your legs, arms and hands to complete your basic hygiene routine. 

Sauntering back to the kitchen, you decided that some cheesy scrambled eggs, toast, grapes and a glass of OJ would suffice for breakfast. You set about cracking eggs and mixing in some cheese in a glass bowel while sipping on your juice. Once your toast was buttered, your glass refilled and the eggs were cooked, you gathered up your food and headed back to your bedroom, setting your breakfast down on the bedside table. 

The towel that had been wrapped around your head had started to come undone, so you unwrapped it and brushed your hair before putting a little mousse in your hands and rubbing it from root to tip to try and tame the frizz that would try to rear its ugly head when your hair was finally dry. You walked around your room and pulled down the blackout shades on your three bedroom windows. These had been another one of your best investments, since your job essentially made you a vampire. 

You finally settled into bed and pulled Netflix up on your TV, excited to pick up where you left on your show. Yes, you had seen every episode a least 20 times, but there were still something comforting in the way the Winchester brothers never gave up. You had finished season 10 yesterday morning before falling asleep and you were once again relieved to see that Dean had been rid of the Mark of Cain. “_Mmmmmm_,” you unconsciously licked your lips and thought,“_Dean, oh Dean, oh Dean. What I wouldn’t do for you._” However, you knew that Amara and all of her darkness was just on the horizon. You quickly ate your breakfast and by the time the credits were rolling on the episode, you had already fallen asleep. 

*****

  
You never set an alarm after working your third shift in a row. Instead, you liked to allow yourself to catch up on sleep and rest as long as your body felt like it needed to. So, you were pleasantly surprised when you woke up, reached for your cellphone and found that it was only 3:30pm. Knowing you would never be able to fall back asleep, you stretched, arching your back against your bed, you tank top riding up and almost exposing your breasts to the world. However, something felt . . . different. Whenever you stretched, you could never feel the edge of your king sized bed. But . . . even in your darkened room, you could tell this bed was much smaller. You reached over to your bedside table to click the light on, but instead found a string to pull. 

“_What the hell?!?_”

  
That’s the thought that repeated over and over in your head as light flooded the room, allowing you to finally survey your surroundings. A small gasp escaped your lips when you realized that you were not in you room . . . in your home . . . in Kentucky. The walls were made of concrete and there was a ledge behind the bed. You could see your wallet, some of your makeup and other personal effects laying there. “_What the . . . nope, not even gonna question it right now_”.

The next thing you noticed were that there were two doors. One, obviously led out to . . . well you weren’t quite sure where it led. But, the other one was halfway open and you could see a white, porcelain sink from where you were sitting. “_At least I have my own bathroom or half-bath. Bonus?_” There were no decorations on the walls and no windows, which is why it was so dark and somewhat felt like home when you first woke up. The warm, wooden furniture was sparse, but gave off a cozy almost “cabin like” feeling. Scatted about the room was a dresser, a couple of beside tables and a desk with a chair. You saw your favorite black leather jacket hanging off of the chair and a few pairs of shoes, ranging from sneakers to boots and high heels, sitting on the floor in front of the dresser. 

  
“_Ok, seriously, did I have some kind of stroke_??”

“_How did I get here? Where is here? Who brought me here? Am I dead!?_”

  
You sat on the bed for a few minutes, bringing your knees up to chest and rocking back and forth against the headboard. You were trying to breathe deep, slow breaths and bring yourself down from the edge of a panic attack. A million questions flooded your mind and you seriously considered the possibility that you had snapped. The more you let your eyes roam around your surroundings, the more you started to freak out. There was nothing really sinister about the room and it’s not like you were tied up or blindfolded. But, even though the room looked foreign, something about it felt very familiar.

You suddenly became very still, eyes wide as saucers. For a brief moment, you forgot how to breathe altogether as realization dawned on you. “No, I can’t be. I must be going crazy,” you said to yourself, finally taking in a breath just to let out an exasperated sigh. You quickly shoved your face down so your forehead was resting on your knees and you began to rock back and forth again. You knew exactly where you were. 

You were in Lebanon, Kansas.

  
You were in the friggin’ Men of Letters bunker.

  
You were in “Supernatural”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Wrings hand nervoulsy*  
So . . . I know there were no Winchesters in this first chapter, but I wanted you to get a sense of who the character was and some of her background. I’m going to publish the second chapter soon and they will make an appearance. Please let me know if you liked this or if it completely sucks and I should just write for myself. If you enjoy it, I would love to know. Thanks for reading!


	2. A Not So Warm Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester boys return from a hunt to find they have an unexpected house guest waiting for them.

You chuckled lightly to yourself. “_There’s no way, no way, no FUCKING way that I am in a damn TV show!_” You were still sitting with your arms wrapped around your legs, trying to figure out your next plan of action. You grabbed the back of your right thigh and pinched hard for several moments, trying to wake up. When the pain became too much, you had to the fact that if you were in a dream, it was going to be very hard to wake up from it. You rubbed at your skin, knowing you had probably just given yourself a bruise. After spending a few more minutes inside your own head, trying to come up with a rational explanation for what was going on, you decided the only logical thing to do was to get up and see exactly who else was in the bunker. 

  
However, as you moved your legs to the side of the bed, you noticed an envelope on your nightstand and wondered how you had missed it when you first checked the time on your phone. You arched an eyebrow as you noticed that “_Dean_” was the singular word elegantly scrawled on the front. You flipped it over and saw it was wax sealed. You scoffed and yelled outloud, “I’m dropped into an alternate universe and the only clue I see so far is a letter that’s not even addressed to me!?” You tried to open the envelope, but the seal wouldn’t budge; not even the paper would rip. With a frustrated sigh, you slipped the damned thing into your pocket. 

  
You opened the door slowly, just enough to peak out through the crack and see down the hallway. You listened and looked intently for any movement or voices. After a few beats, you decided that the coast was clear and wandered out into the hallway. You looked at your door and saw you had been plopped down in room “13”. “_Well someone has a sense of humor_,” you thought. You had seen the show multiple times, but there was no way you had the layout of the bunker memorized. So, you chose right and followed the hallway, hoping to find the war room or at least another person, silently praying that whoever you met wouldn’t kill you the moment they laid eyes on you. 

  
Turns out, your instincts were right and as you made your way around the last corner, you could see that you were in the crow’s nest. You caught sight of the iconic map on the war room table down below, causing a giant smile to spread across your face. For a second, you forgot that you were utterly terrified and confused about what was going on. You ran down the stairs like a kid on Christmas morning and walked around the table, your hand grazing the map as you circled the room. 

You peered into the library and you could feel the importance and powerful energy radiating from within. You leaned on the archway and closed your eyes, soaking in the atmosphere. There was a lingering smell of old leather, wood and whiskey, “_thanks to Dean I’m sure_” you mused to yourself. 

  
Walking further into the library, you now noticed that there were several books scattered across the middle table and a couple were open to various pages of lore about necromancing and the history of the Nazi party. You wracked your brain, trying to figure out exactly where you were in the Winchester’s timeline, but without knowing the specifics of the hunt, there was no way to tell. That’s when you heard the bunker door creak open and two booming voices broke the peaceful silence, making your blood run cold.

  
“Dude, you have got to quit saying that,” you heard Sam, who you had come to love and adore as a brother, whine. “It was just another hunt, no big deal.” You heard two pairs of heavy boots descend down the stairs from the crow’s nest to the war room. They were getting close. You were suddenly hit with a wave of adrenaline and your “fight or flight” instinct kicked in. 

  
You were still deciding what to do, feet frozen to the wood floor, when you heard a second voice laugh heartily. That sound made your mouth run dry and you were suddenly aware of how physically exposed you were. “_Why didn’t I put on more clothes before exploring the bunker_,” you thought to yourself. Your inner subconscious was smacking your head with a rolled up newspaper yelling, “_stupid, stupid, stupid_” over and over again. 

His voice pulled you out of your own thoughts and sent shivers up and down your spine with its low timbre, but you heard pride in it too and you just knew he was giving his brother a big shit eating grin, “Sammy, when you kill Hitler, the leader of the Nazi party, one of the worst people to ever live, you get bragging rights for life. And I . . . I killed Hitler. I killed Hitler. I KILLED HITLER!” You watched as Dean sat down a duffel bag he was carrying onto the war room table. As soon as he dropped his bag, he looked up and saw you standing there in the library. Without hesitation, he reached to his back and whipped out that .45 caliber Colt with ivory grips that you had come to love and adore. But now, it could literally be the death of you. 

  
“Who the hell are you!” Dean practically snarled, approaching you slowly. Sam wasn’t far behind, having already pulled out his gun as well. You stood there, not able to move or speak, caught off by actually being face to face with your biggest celebrity crush and his brother. Dean stepped down into the library, approaching on your right, with Sam flanking on the left, a move you knew they had perfected in their years of hunting. 

  
“I . . . uh . . . I’m,” you answered just above a whisper, but you couldn’t seem to get any coherent words out. You were completely stunned from being in the bunker and then from finally laying eyes on the Winchester brothers. You were pretty sure your brain and body had gone into sensory overloaded. If that wasn’t enough, those deep, green emerald eyes of Dean Winchester were putting you into a hypnotic state. You had stared at those eyes for hours, either while watching the show or when answering a call or text from your phone, since he was your wallpaper. But to see those eyes in person, it was intoxicating. 

  
But then, those eyes were suddenly filled with rage as he yelled, “Damn it! I said who are you! How the hell did you get in here!” You stuttered again, “Sam . . . Dean, I don’t know how I got here. I just woke up in one of the rooms”. Dean smirked, cocking his head to the side, “Ok, sure lady” he responded his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

  
You saw him briefly look to his brother and nod. By this time, they had circled around you, with Dean in the front and Sam at your back. You suddenly felt two very strong arms wrap around your body, pinning your arms to your side. You struggled at first, but then realized that it was no use and would only serve to make them trust you less if you fought. So, instead, you stood still, waiting for their next move. 

  
Dean put his gun away and walked out of the room, apparently on the hunt for something. Sam stood there, holding you tightly in his locked arms, making it hard for you to breathe. You pleaded with him, “Sam, look I know you don’t know me, but I swear I’m not any danger. If anything, I’m the one in trouble!” You tried to look up over your right shoulder into his eyes to make him realize you were telling the truth, but he just gritted his teeth and refused to make eye contact, squeezing you a little harder, asserting his dominance. 

  
You groaned at the increase pressure around your chest and tried to do your best to just relax and focus on your breathing. It felt like hours had passed since Dean had left the room, but you knew it was only minutes. Suddenly, he rounded the corner, returning with what you knew where some common tools of the trade. He had rope . . . “_great I’m about to be tied up by Dean Winchester and not in a fun way_” . . . a knife, which you assumed was pure silver, a flask that you just knew had holy water and a household cleaner . . . “_borax for a leviathan check_”. Dean sat the contents on the table to your left and pulled out a chair from the table. Even in “hunter mode” you couldn’t help but to appreciate how unequivocally gorgeous this man was.

  
Sam roughly flipped you around by your arms and slammed you down in the chair. You gasped for air, suddenly relieved by the crushing force that had been squeezing your chest. However, the relief didn’t last long because Dean began to wrap the rope tightly around your middle. Once again, you fought an internal struggle. You should be resisting the rope, fighting to be free and not a prisoner, but this was team “free will”. You knew once they realized you were no danger to them, they would release you, at least you hoped they would. 

  
After Dean was satisfied that you were secured, even going as far as to tie your ankles together and your wrists behind your back, he spun you around in the chair towards him. He was bent down, arms on either side of the chair, caging you in and eye level with you. You saw his gaze marginally soften for a few moments as he really got a good look at you. He scanned your face, briefly lowering his eyes to your lips and then down to your ridiculous lack of clothing. You noticed his breathing was shallower as he let his eyes roam over you. 

  
During this time, you were able to admire him. God, you never thought you’d be this close to him. He smelled like whiskey, gunpowder and . . . was that cinnamon? Shampoo or body wash perhaps? He was wearing a black T-shirt, “_of course_” your inner self mused, with that red, almost maroon, button up shirt over top. You loved that shirt and thought “_red is definitely his color_”. His bowed legs were covered by a pair of dark jeans that had several dark stains scattered across the knees and his upper thighs. His feather soft hair was spiked up in its usual style and he was sporting a few extra days worth of stubble. His jaw was set and when his eyes met yours again, he was back in “hunter mode”. He leaned in a little closer, his eyes continuing to bore straight into your soul, willing you to give him answers about who you were. Your breath hitched a little as you allowed yourself to let your eyes to fall away from his gaze and focus on his beautiful, slightly chapped, pink lips with that perfect “V” on top. 

  
He was so close to you that, you could have leaned forward slightly and kissed him or rubbed your cheek against his scruff. Everything about this man was a turn on. You could feel your breathing increase and you couldn’t help but to bite your lower lip as a throb began to beat in between your legs as you continued to drink him in. “_Pull it together woman! Yes, you are staring at the most gorgeous man you have ever seen, but he is on the warpath with you as your target. SPEAK!_”

  
“I’m sorry Dean” you finally managed to utter weakly. He showed no emotion before rising up and grabbing the flask off the table, throwing the water in your face. He moved so quickly that you had no time to react. You gasped and felt your nose start to burn and you coughed; your mouth had been open unintentionally and you breathed in some of the water. You coughed and coughed, trying to remove the water from your lungs. Suddenly, you felt a sharp burn on your left hand. “Fuckarooni!” you yelled in between coughs. Opening your eyes, you could see Dean had cut your left palm and blood was starting to drip down onto the floor. 

  
OK. Now, you were a little pissed. At least give a girl some damn warning! “Well, I’m not a demon, werewolf, vampire or shifter. Happy?! Now, go ahead and pour some of the cleaner on me and you can establish I’m not a leviathan either,” you managed to choke out, frustration in your voice. Sam had come around from behind you and was now stationed behind Dean with a gun pointed at you. “_How long had he been there?_” 

  
Dean looked at you and gave a little smirk before he popped off the top of the cleaner, poured some of the liquid onto your right hand and waited for your reaction. You sat there, still as could be and dared him to look up and make eye contact with you. When he finally raised his eyes to yours, you could tell he was confused. 

“Well, you’re not a monster, but you seem to know who we are,” Sam said, nodding towards his brother. He continued, “So, what or who the hell are you?”

  
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before looking back up to Sam, “Well, if one of you would be so kind as to untie me and maybe get a bandage for my left hand I’ll be more than happy to tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome. Please feel free to leave a kudos or comment to let me know you are enjoying the story! 😘


	3. So It is Written

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You continue to try and convince the brothers that you are no threat to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and support so far! Each one truly makes me giddy and inspires me to write the best story that I can for you beautiful people!

Dean chuckled, “Darling, you got balls, I’ll give you that, but there is no way in hell we are untying you until we get some answers. Sam, go grab the princess here a bandage from the infirmary will ya?” After pausing for a moment, Sam placed his gun in the back of his jeans and headed out of the library. 

  
You had finally managed to quit coughing and you could feel that the blood had almost stopped dripping from the cut on your hand. Dean ran his right hand through his hair and sighed heavily before turning away from you and walking over to the table to set the bottle of cleaner back down. He leaned down to place his hands flat on the table and just started out in front of him at nothing in particular. You immediately recognized that face. He was in deep thought, probably calculating all of your possible motives and reasons for being there. You knew he wouldn’t want to talk to you until Sam returned, but you just had to try and get through to him somehow. 

  
“So . . . I heard you killed Hitler?” He couldn’t help smiling a little and answered dreamily with a nod of his head, “Yeah,” but then he realized who he was talking to and his face was stoic once again. “Listen Dean, I am sorry to show up unexpected and unannounced in your home. But, it’s not like I asked for this. It sounds like you all just got back from driving all day or all night from your latest hunt, so I know you must be tired. But Dean, I swear I am not dangerous. You have to believe me,” you pleaded, willing him to make eye contact with you. 

  
His eyes shifted to look at you, but his face remained expressionless. You couldn’t help but notice his eyes wander down from yours and you followed his gaze. The holy water had soaked through your white tank top, making the middle completely see through. On top of that, your breasts were pushed up and almost out of your top, thanks to the ropes that were tightly wound around your middle and your heavy coughing. Your shorts had ridden up so much that your ass was barely covered. By the time you looked back to Dean, you could see was adjusting his pants and shaking his head, as if he was trying to refocus his thought.

  


  
“_Was Dean Winchester checking me out?_” You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself and feel a little excitement, even if you were tied up and overexposed. 

Suddenly, you remembered that you had a clue as to why you were there. “Dean!” you yelled a little louder than intended. His head whipped around to look at you again. “Look, when I woke up, there was an envelope on the bedside table with your name written on it. I was a little freaked out so I tried to open it myself, but I couldn’t. Even though it looks like a perfectly normal envelope, I couldn’t break the seal or even rip it open. Since it’s addressed to you, maybe you can. It’s here in my right pocket,” you said nodding down to your shorts. 

  
Dean looked back down to his hands and stood still, trying to decide if you were telling the truth or spinning a lie so you could try and escape or hurt him. “Dean, come on! Look at me,” you begged. Surprisingly, he turned his head back to you and met your gaze. You were once again temporarily hypnotized by these beautiful green gems before continuing, “You’ve interrogated hundreds of people and I’m pretty sure your gut knows by now when someone isn’t telling you the truth. So look at me, do you think I’m lying or have any intentions of trying to hurt you or Sam? Shit, if I was, I would’ve at least dressed a little better don’t you think?” 

  
It was then that Sam finally retuned from the infirmary. He made his way back behind you and started to clean the cut on your hand. Despite the burning from the alcohol, you never broke eye contact with Dean. Finally, he rolled his eyes and said, “Fuck it”. Sam was just finishing up with wrapping the bandage around your cut as Dean came around to stand in front of you. He placed his right hand on your left shoulder. You shivered at the unexpected warm touch and tried to remain cool and calm as he reached into your right pocket with his left hand to extract the envelope. 

  
Too soon, his hand left you, leaving you feeling sad and cold from the loss. “_You are a grown ass woman! He just touched your shoulder! Hell, Sam was holding your hand and you didn’t pay any attention,_” you scolded yourself. But then, another part of you reared her head, with a huge smile across her face and whispered, “_yeah, but Sam isn’t Dean_”.

  
Sam stood up and was now staring at his brother and the item he had just pulled from your shorts. Dean turned the envelope over in his hands several times, checking for any other markings or signs of danger that would warn him not to open it. “Dean, what is that?” Sam asked. Dean shrugged and made a face that you knew meant ‘I don’t know’. “Hell if I know Sammy, but the girl says it was in her room when she woke up.” Sam quirked up an eyebrow, “Well are you gonna open it?”

He stared at his name on the front of the envelope for several seconds, before flipping it over once more and easily breaking the seal. Dean pulled out what looked to be a single piece of old parchment, with just a few lines of words scrawled across it. You tried to lean forward, hoping that he would get the hint to read it aloud. His brows furrowed in confusion and he glanced down to look at you. You kept eye contact, raising your eyebrows to let him know you were expecting an answer or some kind of explanation. He looked back to the letter and you saw his eyes scan back and forth across the paper several more times, a myriad of emotions, from confusion to fear to anger, running across his face. Sam came around from behind you and tried to read the letter, but Dean quickly folded it up and tucked it into the front right pocket of his dark jeans. 

  
“What’d it say?” you and Sam both asked at the same time. You laughed quietly and Sam couldn’t help but smile a little. He still didn’t trust you and he wanted to give no indication that you were out of hot water just yet. 

  
Dean looked you over once and more, then finally bent down and started to untie the ropes around your ankles. “Sammy, untie her from the back would you please?” Sam had a stunned look on his face, “Dean are you sure? We still have no idea who she is or why she’s here.” Dean continued to make quick work of the knots and replied, “Look, just trust me OK. Untie her.” Sam trusted his brother completely, so he walked behind you and started to undo your bindings.

  
Once your bindings were free, you took a deep breath and pulled your arms around to your front. You hadn’t been tied up too long, but it felt great to be able to bend and stretch your muscles.  
A sharp, stinging sensation on your wrists made you gasp. Even though you hadn’t struggled much, Dean had tied you up tight, and you noticed slight rope burns on your wrists. Dean was still squatted down in front of you and noticed the small burns too. He had a look of pain in his eyes and reached up to rub your wrists. 

  
  


  
You closed your eyes and relished the touch. Each wrist was being slowly rubbed and massaged by his strong, capable hands. Your wrists instantly started to feel less sore as he rubbed his thumbs back and forth across the sensitive area of skin. You couldn’t explain it, but you suddenly felt safe under his firm, but gentle touch. 

  
A low moan, barely audible, escaped your throat and you felt his hands stop moving. You opened your eyes and saw that he was staring at you, pupils blown and a predatory look in his eye. You couldn’t help but lick your lips and stare back at him with your mouth slightly agape. His grip became a little too tight, and you winced as the burning in your wrists returned. Dean’s eyes shot back down to your wrists and the pain was back in his eyes. He lifted one wrist to his mouth and placed a kiss on it, then repeated the same motion with the other. He looked back up to you and let out a quiet, “I’m so sorry,” and it felt like he was apologizing for much more than the burns on your wrists. 

  
“_Where in the hell did this 180 come from? Is he suddenly under some kind of spell or influence from the letter_,” you couldn’t help but wonder. 

  
Sam cleared his voice, causing Dean to whip his head up towards his brother. “Dean, uh, you okay there?” Dean stood up, gently placing your hands in your lap, “Yeah, I’m fine Sammy. This girl here, she’s not any danger, trust me. In fact, she needs our help.” He looked down and reached for your hands to help you stand. You accepted his help and he slowly pulled you up from the chair. 

  
Suddenly, you were a little too close for comfort, your chest almost touching his. The close contact was intoxicating and before you knew it, you felt him guiding your arms into his red button up shirt that he had been wearing only moments ago. 

  
“Sorry I got you all wet, but maybe this,” he said nodding to his shirt, “will make up for it a little bit. We have to be careful in our line of work, but it sounds like you already know that.” He finished with the last button and gave you a mega-watt smile. 

  
You shook your head, thinking about the double entendre of his words. The fact was, that wearing _Dean fuckin’ Winchester’s_ shirt, was not going to help keep you dry. 

  
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. But, I swear, if either of you ever tie me up again, without my permission,” you gave Dean a little wink, “it’ll be the last thing you do. Mark my words.”

  
“_Holy shit! You did not just hint that you wanted him to tie you up! Sam is right there behind you! Keep it in your pants girl. You don’t even know how similar he is to the character on the show you watch!_”

  
He bit his lower lip and replied with a nod of his head, “Duly noted, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . do you have any theories as to what could be written in the letter?
> 
> I am going to try and post at LEAST a chapter or two weekly. I’m excited to put my story out there, but want it to be as good as possible. I have worked on outlining the story and it has turned into a much bigger project than anticipated because I am overflowing with ideas and want to accurately weave my story into seasons 12 & 13 as much as I possibly can. Bear with me and it’ll be worth the wait, I promise!


	4. Breaking Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s chow time in the Men of Letters bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little bit longer chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Dean clapped his hands before dropping them back down to his sides. “Well, you’ve obviously been through a lot today. Can we get you something to eat? I know I’m starving. What about you Sammy?”

  
“Uh, Dean, aren’t there more pressing matters at hand here,” Sam answered from behind you. You couldn’t see him, but he was staring daggers at your back and mouthing silently, “_what the fuck?_” to his brother while throwing his hands up in the air. 

“Awww, come on, there will be plenty of time for interrogations later. Let’s get the little lady something in her stomach. What do you say doll? How about I whip up some hamburgers?”

  
You were starting to feel a little dizzy from the emotional rollercoaster that the Winchesters had you riding. It seemed that whatever was written in the letter had alleviated Dean’s fears about you for the moment. Sam on the other hand, he was still wary of you and he needed answers now. 

  
You let out a deep breath, “Sure, that sounds great, I’d really appreciate it. But we have to have cheese and bacon too.” Dean scoffed, “Duh,” as if having a burger without those two ingredients would be sacrilegious. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the goofy look on his face. All the tension from the day’s events slowly began to fade away. 

You looked over your shoulder towards the youngest Winchester, “Then, maybe I can answer any questions you have and we can try to piece together what is going on here. I have nothing to hide; I’m going to be as honest as I can with the both of you so I can put your minds at ease about me.” You looked back to Dean, “but first, would it be ok if I freshened up a little bit? I was basically water boarded, sliced up and held hostage.” 

  
You meant to say it as a joke to lighten the mood, but you could immediately see Dean flinch at your words. “Hey, I’m OK,” you reassured him. “Like you said, it’s just part of the job. I would’ve done the same thing and that’s exactly why I didn’t really struggle or fight. I knew you both would calm down a little once you realized I wasn’t a monster.” Dean gave you a small smile and a nod. From behind, Sam gave you directions to the bathroom, but you could tell from the tone in his voice that he was pissed. You quickly headed out of the library and let them know you’d meet them in the kitchen. 

  
This bunker was HUGE and you are woman enough to admit that you get lost, maybe even more than once, despite Sam’s directions. However, you finally stumbled across a half bath, went inside and locked the door behind you. You leaned your head back against the door and let out a deep breath. “_Ok that was intense as hell._” 

  
Sam and Dean had just put you through the ringer, making sure you were human. Then Dean read the letter and “_what the hell was that after!!!_” you inner voice screamed. It’s as if he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing he ever held and you were so far from that. “_The guy barely knows me!_”

  
“_Maybe the letter said you were a pathetic fan and were magically being granted a day in the bunker. Maybe it said you were a psychiatric patient and they should calm down, stall you and call the cops. Maybe it said this was all a dream of your greatest fantasies and they should just play along with it until you woke up._”

  
The possibilities and thoughts swirled around your head, before your other inner voice, the sexy and self-assured you, spoke up, “_Honey, I don’t know why we’re here, but Dean certainly seems interested._” 

  
“_He just sees her as an easily lay. The poor woman was stuttering and practically drooling over him_,” the doubtful one said. 

  
“_Nuh uh uh_,” your confident side replied with a wriggle of he eyebrows, “_he was kissing her wrists and ignoring his brother while also protecting her modesty_”.

  
Despite the unusual circumstances, you were excited that you had actually met the Winchesters, in the flesh. However, a wave of anxiety washed over you when you considered the possibility that they may not actually be like their TV counterparts. Just because you had watched the show, it didn’t mean that this Sam and Dean were exactly like the Winchester brothers you had come to know and love. What if they were more ruthless or had a different history than your Sam and Dean? What if their father was still alive? What if they had girlfriends? What if they weren’t friends with Castiel? What if . . . What if . . . What if?

You shook your head vigorously, willing yourself out of your own thoughts. Taking a deep breath, you pushed off the door, used the bathroom, because well, you had woken up and not been able to go since this morning. “_Was it this morning you got home from the hospital?_” You shuddered and shook your head again. Your mind was definitely not prepared to process all of these questions and hypothetical situations without some food in your stomach. You washed your hands and then splashed some water on your face. You took one extra moment to appreciate that you looked pretty damn good in Dean’s shirt, before unlocking the door and heading for the kitchen. 

  
As you neared the kitchen, you could hear Sam and Dean talking in hushed tones. You slowly approached towards their voices and could start to make out words. Curiosity got the better of you and you stopped to listen. 

Sam let out an exasperated sigh, “Damn it Dean, why can’t you tell me what was in the letter?” Dean replied, “Listen, if you needed to know what it said, I would tell you, but you don’t. It’s none of your business.” 

  
“None of my business! This girl somehow managed to find our secret underground bunker while we happened to be away on a hunting trip and we don’t know who she is or why she’s here! Dean, I’m worried. You read a few words on a letter that SHE gave you and then poof, all is right with the world? And, you’re letting her roam around like she’s family?! What if she put you under some kind of spell? I have every goddamn right to know what was in that letter too!”

  
You heard the clanking of cookware and footsteps crossing the kitchen. You held your breath and hoped that the argument wouldn’t become physical. “Sammy, I’m only going to say this one more time. I love you, you know that. But that letter is my business and mine alone. I will tell you what’s it in one day, but today is not that day and tomorrow isn’t looking good either. So, please, “ you could hear the desperation in his voice, “just believe me when I say that we can trust her. Plus, she’s not staying long. We’re gonna find a way to send her back to wherever she came from as soon as possible.” 

You were relieved that the fight had not come to blows, but the thought of leaving them made you feel like you had been kicked in the gut. Sure, you had a life, albeit a simple one, that you could go back to, but these were the _motherfucking Winchesters_. There were still so many unanswered questions about your sudden appearance and your reason for being there. Plus, you were pretty sure you had not only traveled to their alternate universe, but back in time, and you were going to try and prevent some of the awful shit that was brewing on the horizon with your foreknowledge. 

  
Satisfied that they were done discussing you and the letter, you decided to enter the kitchen. Rounding the corner, you found Dean was busy frying the burgers and bacon while Sam was working on chopping up lettuce, tomatoes and onions. Sam looked up and gave you a quick, tight smile. “Anything I can do to help?” you asked him. “Nah, we pretty much got it covered, why don’t you sit down and start telling us a little bit about yourself and how you got here. Hell, we don’t even know your name”. 

  
You laughed at that realization. “Oh my Chuck, I hadn’t even realized I didn’t tell you my name!” Both the brothers snapped their heads toward you with an eyebrow raised, 

  
“Oh my Chuck?” they asked in unison. 

  
You couldn’t help but laugh, it was so adorable when they said the same thing. “Well yeah, Chuck is God right? So I kind of got used to saying that instead of ‘oh my God’. Just one of my little quirks I guess . . .” but your voice trailed off when noticed that the brothers were staring at you. Suddenly you felt like the biggest nerd in the world. Dean shrugged his shoulders and accepted that as an answer, but Sam was giving you more of a skeptical look. You looked to Sam and said, “(Y/N). My name is (Y/N).” Sam nodded and you started to make your way over to the table to sit across from him. 

  
“Well (Y/N), I hope you’re hungry, because the burgers are almost done.” Dean announced. 

  
“Thanks Dean, and yeah, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since, this morning? Not sure how long I’ve been here exactly,” you said looking at the clock and seeing it was going on 5:30pm. “I’ve been awake for about two hours, but I have no idea how long I’ve actually been here. The last thing I remember was falling asleep in my bed after coming home from my shift at the hospital.”

  
Dean made his way over to the table with a plate of burgers, bacon and cheese so everyone could assemble their own sandwich and Sam had finished chopping up the extra toppings. “Hospital huh?” Dean asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows and one of his cheesy smiles, “So, are you like a sexy nurse. Oh please, tell me we had a sexy nurse drop down from the heavens into our bunker, right Sammy?”

  
_Dean Winchester just called you sexy. Dean Winchester thinks you’re sexy. Ok, be cool, be cool._

  
You weren’t that good at flirting, but something about Dean made you bolder. You looked up at him, using all of your restraint to only let a small smirk ghost across your face, “As a matter of fact, Mr. Winchester, I am.” Then, before you could control himself, you blew him a kiss.

  
The blood drained from his face as he stared down at you. He tried to come up with something to say, but had no comeback. Instead, he turned around and headed towards the fridge. You looked over at Sam and saw him roll his eyes. You looked back to Dean, who was now nervously shifting from one foot to the other in front of the fridge. 

  
“So, (Y/N), what’s your poison?” he asked, trying to change the topic, “We got beer, we got soda, we got water and uh, that’s it.”

  
“I’ll take a water. I’m not a big beer drinker.” 

  
Dean grabbed two beers and a bottle of water before walking back to the table. “See, I knew there had to be something wrong with you,” he said after twisting the top off of both beers and setting them at the table. 

  
Sam had retrieved plates from the cupboard and buns from the counter. Once everyone was settled at the table, you all started assembling burgers. You clicked your tongue and replied, “Now, don’t get me wrong, I can drink with the rest of them, but beer, ugh, just no. I’m little girly in this area. I prefer sweet flavored wine coolers, like green apple, black cherry or” you paused to make sure that both boys were looking at you, “the dreaded Smirnoff Ice!” Both boys groaned loudly, obviously over exaggerating their disgust, because they both chuckled afterwards. 

  
Sam was lightening up a little bit, but you could tell his guard was still up. He was on edge, having no real answers about your presence there. Dean on the other hand, was much more friendlier than you expected him to be. He had come back and immediately sat beside you, instead of his brother, at the table. You couldn’t help but notice that he was constantly sneaking peaks at you or eyeing you with curiosity. 

  
You took the first bite of your burger, “Damn Dean, this is really good,” and you could see pride radiate off of him. You were looking at one another, smiling, when the mood was broken.

“So, (Y/N), who are you exactly?” Sam asked with a note of skepticism in his voice. Dean broke eye contact with you to give Sam a bitchface. “Damn it Dean, we need some answers!” Sam yelled. 

  
You instinctively reached over and patted Dean on his forearm, feeling him stiffen under your touch, before answering, “Dean, it’s OK. I know so much about you guys, or at least I think I do, but all you know is that I’m a nurse.” You dropped your hand from Dean and looked to Sam, taking a deep breath. 

  
My name is “(Y/N) (Y/L/N). I am 30 years old, well, I was in my time. I’m pretty sure I was living in an alternative reality from yours because, as far as I know, monsters are not real there. It was the morning of December 19th, 2019. I had just finished my third night in a row at the ER and went home, took a shower, made breakfast and fell asleep while watching ‘Supernatural’ on Netflix. Dean had just been rid of the mark of Cain, but Rowena ended up releasing the darkness in order to do so.”

  
“Yeah, that did happen, but that was over a year ago. Wait, so you’re from that universe where we’re actors and Sammy here is a Polish guy named Padeleski?” Dean asked. 

  
“Padalecki,” you and Sam answered in unison. 

  
“I don’t think it’s that one,” you went on, “because Misha, the actor that plays Castiel is still alive. Wait, you guys do have a friend that’s also an angel named Castiel, right?” 

  
“Yeah, wings is here in this universe too,” Dean stated. 

  
“Ok good. So, I guess there must be at least two universes where your guys’ lives are a TV show. Aren’t you lucky?!” you asked sarcastically. 

  
“Great! Two TV shows and a series of books. So much for privacy, huh Sammy,” Dean quipped, starting in on his third bacon cheeseburger. 

  
You noticed he had some mustard on the corner of his mouth and before you knew what you were doing, you instinctively reached up with a napkin and wiped it away. Dean gave you a puzzled look, but when he realized what you were doing, he stayed still while you cleaned his face. You both knew that it was an odd gesture, but it also felt completely natural, like you had done it a million times before. 

  
“Thanks babe,” he said before taking another big bite of his sandwich. 

  


  
“Wait, you’re not some crazy super fan like Becky are you?” Sam asked fearfully. 

  
“Oh hell no! She had good intentions, but she was a little obsessed. I am nothing like her,” you reassured Sam. 

  
“I still don’t understand why anyone would be interested in our lives,” Dean pondered out loud. 

  
You reached for both Sam and Dean’s hands and held them tightly. Before either could protest, you gave them each a little squeeze and took a moment to look both of them in the eye. You wanted them to know how serious your next words were. 

  
“I’m going to say something and I don’t want either of you interrupting me.” You could tell that they wanted to protest, but instead they eave gave you a tight smile and nodded. 

  
“People love to watch you guys, because you are heros, no matter what your self deprecating nature may tell you. You always try to save as many people as you can, often having to sacrifice yourselves, people you love and care about and your happiness to do so. You do it, without question or hesitation, because it’s for the greater good of the world. When you do make friends, you do anything and everything to help them, without asking for anything in return. In other words, you both are unrelentingly selfless. You never give up fighting, despite facing things that would easily send others running for the hills. In spite of all the heartache and pain you’ve gone through, you still manage to find time to have fun and enjoy the little things. You two are truly good men with hearts of gold.” You let your words hang in the air for a few moments, before smiling to yourself and continuing, “Plus, you know, you’re both sinfully beautiful,” and as you said this last part, you looked specifically towards Dean, who was staring at the table, and squeezed his, and only his, hand. 

“_Who even are you?! You never act this around men!_”

  
Sam let go of your hand shortly after, but Dean continued to look down, taking in your words and holding your hand tightly. “People really think that about us?” Sam asked as Dean finally turned his head to make eye contact with you. You could see multiple emotions running across his face, from fear, to pain, to regret and then wonder. Wonder at how you could say something like that about him.You took your other hand and couldn’t help but to reach out and cup his cheek, enjoying the feel of his stubble as you rubbed your thumb back and forth across his face. You smiled as big as you could and replied, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  
Dean, closed his eyes, leaned into your touch and squeezed your hand a little tighter. Finally, he opened his eyes and said, “Well sweetheart, it’s November 2016. So, I guess we need to work on getting you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 and probably 6 coming up quick! Thanks for continued support and feedback!


	5. Third Party Opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean have your first fight and Castiel makes an appearance.

Sam was sitting in the library, with his elbows propped up on a table, his hands supporting his head and his middle and index fingers were rubbing his temples. You and Dean were going at it in the war room, not ten feet away. 

  
No . . . not like that! 

  
When Dean had mentioned trying to return you to your own time, you couldn’t help but laugh. Yes, you had heard him mention it to Sam during their secret conversation earlier in the kitchen, but you thought he must be joking. But Dean was dead serious about sending you back. As soon as it dawned on you that he might actually be considering trying to find a way to send you home, you were on your feet, pointing a finger at his face. 

  
“Fuck that Winchester! I’m not going back!”

  
Dean jumped up as well, not appreciating you pointing a finger in his face. “The hell you are! You just sat there and said it yourself! People we love or get close to die all the time! What, are you suicidal?!” 

  
Sam didn’t know you, but he knew his brother and that look in his eye when he made up his mind. He knew you were fighting a losing battle. He glanced over to you, with pity. It was in that moment that he noticed you had that same look that Dean got when was prepared to stand his ground, burning fiercely in your eyes. 

  
“_Oh God_,” he thought to himself, “_this is gonna be a hell of an argument. Well, if they’re arguing, at least he’s probably not under a spell and (Y/N) isn’t a witch._”

  
The two of you continued yelling at one another for the next hour. Sam had cleaned up the dishes and put away the forgotten burgers for later. Still, the argument went round and round and round and round . . .

  
“Look, obviously I am here for a reason. Unless this is a dream, which it very well could be, then I’ll wake up and poof! Problem solved! But until then, I am not going anywhere,” you yelled and stomped your foot at him from across the war room table. Sam had decided that if you two were going to continue to argue, you would need to put distance between yourselves. 

  
“Damn it, (Y/N), how many times do I have to tell you. You. Are. Not. Safe. Here!”

  
“Fine! Then let me pack my things, whatever few things I do have and leave, since I’m so unwanted here, and go!” You were holding back angry tears at this point.

  
“As I said, that’s an even stupider option, because out there, who knows what wants you,” Dean screamed, pounding his fist on the table. 

  
“‘Stupider’? ‘Stupider’ Winchester? That’s not even a fucking word!” 

  
“Who cares!? The point is you’re not leaving here, unless I know you’re going back home where you’ll be safe. Maybe we can just take you back to your old Kentucky home and everything will be like it was in 2016.”

  
You squeezed your fists a little harder than you meant to, feeling a sharp sting from the cut on left hand. You rolled your eyes before responding, “Dean, this is a completely different reality. Even if my home is there, it’s either not my house or there’s another me living there. There’s no going back for me!”

  
“Well we have to try at least, damn it! I’m not going to see someone else get hurt because they were dragged into my shitstorm of a life!”

  
There it was, the real reason he wanted you gone. He was scared that another “innocent” person would get hurt because of him. You placed your hands on your hips and took a firm stance before responding. This time, you spoke slowly and calmly, which took both Dean and Sam by surprise. So much so, that Sam actually looked up at you. “Dean, the safest place for me to be right now, is with you and Sam. Look, why don’t you tell me what the letter said and maybe we can gather some clues from that.”

  
“No! No way in hell! I didn’t even tell Sammy what’s in the letter. You’ll know if you need to know.”

“Seriously Winchester? I was brought here with that letter and you’re not going to tell me what it says?”

  
“Nope,” Dean responded sternly, shaking his head. 

  
“Ugh! I knew you were hard headed, but damn!”

  
You flung yourself down into the nearest chair, exhausted from the fighting. You were emotionally drained from the day and for the last hour, your body had been a raging hormonal mess. You had spent half of the time arguing with Dean, trying to come up with logical rebuttals for his reasons to try and send you home, and the other half trying to ignore the ache between your legs.

  
You couldn’t help get turned on at how protective and defensive Dean was being toward your safety and how absolutely fucking gorgeous and virile he was when he was yelling and slamming his fists down on the table. This man was a walking wet dream and every time he moved, you could see his muscles flex and stretch under his tight black T-shirt. Half of you wanted to slap and strangle him and the other half wanted to throw him down on the table and fuck him into submission.

  
It had been a couple of minutes since either of you said anything and that’s when you noticed that Dean, too, had taken a seat and was running a hand up and down his face, occasionally running it through his hair. You two were at an impasse. You knew that Dean usually got his way, but damn it, you weren’t going to let this adventure slip out of your hands this easily, no matter how secretly terrified you were to actually be in their world. The Winchesters were worth fighting for. That’s when you had an idea. 

  
“_Ok, I don’t even know if this is going to work, because I know you lost your wings in my world. But, Castiel, if you can hear me, please, I need some help. You know how to talk to Dean and I need some answers too about why I’m here._”

  
Suddenly, there was a whooshing sound to your right. You couldn’t help but scream at the sudden appearance of Castiel, Angel of the Lord. Sam and Dean both saw your reaction and couldn’t help but breaking out in laughter, helping to break the heavy tension in the air. “Hello (Y/N),” Castiel said calmly as you stared into his bright, blue eyes, “Yes, I did lose my wings but my Father was gracious enough to give me new ones before he departed with Amara.”

  
Before you knew it, you were up out of your seat and giving him a hug. His whole body was stiff, but his trench coat felt soft against your skin. You laid your head on his chest and noticed he smelled like pine trees and rain. Castiel stood there, stunned at the sudden contact. After a few seconds, he wrapped one arm around your back and gently patted it a few times. “It’s so good to meet you Cas,” you said into his chest. “You too, (Y/N),” he uttered as you released him from the hug and sat back down. 

  


  
“So,” he said looking around at the Winchester brothers, “Dean, why are you so insistent on sending her back?” 

  
Dean went on to run down his reasons for sending you back, and you once again gave your rebuttals. After you and Dean were done yelling and arguing your points to Castiel, he responded, “Dean, you have a point. (Y/N) will definitely be safer in her own time.” You scoffed and started to argue while Dean leaned back in his chair, gloating. But, Castiel continued, looking over to Dean with regret, “However, that is just not possible.”

  
It was your turn to smile smugly as Dean jumped to his feet, “Why the hell not Cas! You just said she’d be safer if she went back!” Castiel lowered his eyes, trying to figure out how to word what he was going to say next, “Yes, I did say that. But she was never supposed to wind up in that reality. She was meant to be here the entire time, but somehow there were several errors and mistakes that occurred, leading her off her path.”

  
“_Path? What the hell kind of a path am I supposed to be on?_”

  
Almost like he could hear your thoughts, Dean asked, “Path? What the hell kind of path is she supposed to be on?” Dean noticed you smile and let out a little chuckle, but he continued to focus on his best friend for an answer. 

  
“I am sorry, Dean, but I can’t tell you anything further than what you already know.” Dean, obviously upset by the answer, asked, “Cas, you can’t tell us or you won’t?” You felt bad for the angel. Dean was staring him down and you knew, from first hand experience now, how much pressure he could put on you with just a look. Castiel seemed to gather all the strength he had and looked into Dean’s eyes before answering, “Both. Even if I could tell you, I wouldn’t. But, I am bound and cannot tell you a thing at this time. What I can tell you is that there is no way she is going back.”

  
Dean reached into his front pocket and pulled out the letter. He held it up towards Castiel, “Well, what about this? Do you know what this says Cas?”

  
You watched as Castiel debated for several moments whether or not to answer. Finally he responded with a simple, “Yes.”

  
“Is it true?”

  
“Yes Dean, it’s true.”

  
Castiel laid a hand on your shoulder and said, “I am sorry (Y/N). You have a very long road ahead of you.”

  
Without another word, he was gone. You leaned back in the chair, kicking your feet up on the table and said, “I’m not sorry at all,” with a smug smile still plastered on your face. Dean turned his attention back to you and you couldn’t help but stick out your tongue at him in defiance. 

  


  
Finally, he closed his eyes and slammed his fists down on the war room table one more time, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Son of a bitch!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ideas are pouring out of me and I’m doing my best to make sure everything makes sense and flows smoothly. Please let me know if anything is confusing or doesn’t make sense to you so I can adjust accordingly. Hope you continue to enjoy the story!


	6. Return to Sender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally get a peak into Dean’s head about what he thinks about today’s events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter, but I really wanted to give a peak inside Dean’s head and summarize his point of view of the day’s events. Even though it’s short, I’m very excited to share it with you.

The smooth feeling of the glass tumbler rolling back and forth across the table was comforting, especially after the day you had. You held the glass up to your mouth and took a sip before swirling it around, watching the amber liquid spin round and round. You didn’t know how many drinks you had, losing count after number five, but you were finally starting to relax a little bit. 

  
After Castiel’s sudden disappearance, (Y/N) had requested to retire for the night She smugly trotted off to take a shower and go to bed. You had nothing more to say, so you just scoffed and shook your head as she marched out of the room. But, you couldn’t stop yourself from checking out her ass and watching her hips sway below your shirt as she walked away. Sam gave you a bitchface, but you were too worn out to care at this point. 

  
Even though she had pissed you off and pushed every single one of your buttons, the moment she was out of your presence, you missed her. You wanted to immediately chase after her and beg for forgiveness, but your pride stopped you. Plus, with everything that had gone on that day, you truly needed a few hours to yourself to process it all. Hell, the last few weeks had been a whirlwind, not that there was ever a a peaceful time in your life. But, you had saved the world, again, reunited God, er Chuck, with his sister, and started to try and build a relationship with your mother who had been dead for 33 years. Now this?

  
You took another swig of the whiskey, enjoying the burn as it slid down you throat, and thought about the words written on the letter. When you ripped open that envelope, you wouldn’t have guessed in a million years what was written on that slip of paper. You had to read it several times and even then, it was like it was written Enochian. But when you looked down at the strange female tied up in front of you, you knew the words were true. 

  
You tried to keep your face as blank as possible so as not to give anything away to Sammy or (Y/N), but waves of terror and guilt had suddenly washed over you and bile rose in your throat as you stared down at here. There she was, bound, cut, practically drowned by holy water and almost naked in a room with two of the most dangerous hunters in the world. Despite all of that, there was nothing but trust shining from her eyes and it shook you to your core. Both she and Sammy wanted to know what was in the letter, but there was no way in hell you could tell them until you processed it yourself. 

  
Seeing those burn marks on her wrists, no matter how minor, made you feel more guilty than you had in your entire life, especially since they had been put there by you. You were glad she had accepted your shirt as a peace offering and took pleasure in slipping it over her shoulders and buttoning it up for her. You scanned her body with your eyes as you covered her up, trying not to let your emotions show. It was taking everything in you not to crash your lips down onto hers and throw her down on the library table to have your way with her then and there. 

  
As soon as she left to freshen up, Sammy was on you, wanting to know the contents of the letter. You had finally convinced him to drop it and were relieved when she joined you in the kitchen before he could continue to push the matter. She was a tease during dinner, pressing her breasts up and touching you here and there. You weren’t sure if she was flirting with you on purpose or if she was just affectionate in general. But, by the end of the meal, you were sporting a hard on. 

  
During the argument that followed, you intermittently tried to adjust yourself so that no one would notice, because damn it, even her fighting with you and pointing a finger in your face had turned you on. She was just so damn feisty and refused to back down. The way she rolled her eyes, stomped her feet and nervously played with her hair when she was thinking was just so fucking adorable and sexy. 

  
You finished your umpteenth drink and saw that it was just past midnight. Sam had gone to bed about an hour ago, leaving you alone with your thoughts and Jack Daniel. Deciding that you were buzzed enough to try and sleep without dreaming of her, you stood and headed towards bed.

  
You passed by her room and saw that the light was still on. You leaned against the door, still struggling to leave her alone for the night. The poor girl had been plucked from her world and dragged into your mess of a life, all because of you. You listened and heard what sounded like dancing and light singing. “_How in the hell is this girl singing and dancing after today?_” you wondered, smiling to yourself. 

  


  
You pulled yourself away from her door and continued down the hallway. When you made it to your bedroom, you closed the door quietly and sat on the edge of the bed. You closed your eyes and let your head hang forward for several minutes, wracking your brain for a solution. “_She can’t stay here. I’ve got to protect her. She’s got to go back._”

  
Admitting defeat, at least for tonight, you stood and grabbed some sweatpants to change into out of your bottom dresser drawer. Sliding off your jeans, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the letter. Before placing it in the box in the hidden drawer in your desk, the one with a few happy pictures from your childhood, you decided to unfold it and read it one more time. You just had to make sure that the words had not changed or disappeared since this afternoon. 

*

*

*

*

*

  
_My Dearest Dean,_

_ As another thank you for reuniting my brother and I,_

_ I hereby return your soulmate to you. She was . . . misplaced._   
  
_ Take care of each other._

  
_-Amara_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The letter’s contents have been revealed! What do you think about it? 
> 
> Ever since I saw season 12, I always wondered what could have been if Amara had gifted Dean not only with his mother, but with the love of his life. So, here’s my version of what would happen. I hope you continue to read and enjoy the story! 😘


	7. Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You decide to surprise the Winchester’s by making breakfast. However, you get caught off guard by a turn of events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in this chapter is called “Ride” by Chase Rice (feat. Macy Maloy). It can be found at https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FPIm9JrYN-c
> 
> I HIGHLY suggest you take a few minutes and listen to it. It’s a great song and it will definitely add more to the chapter if you listen to it first.

You were riding a high. You had met the Winchester brothers, flirted with Dean and even met Castiel. Not only that, but Castiel had announced you had a special purpose and were here to stay! One on hand, you were definitely scared shitless about the journey ahead, but you felt confident that Dean and Sam would be there by your side.

  
You were too hyped up to sleep, so you had stayed up after retiring to your room and took inventory of what items were brought with you from your universe. Thankfully, you seemed to have the basic necessities, including most of your clothing that you wore everyday, the bit of makeup you wore on special occasions and some pictures of your family. You heart ached at the loss of your parents and brothers. You knew that you would most likely never see them again, but you felt reassured by the thought of creating a new family in this world. 

  
You also had your laptop, iPad and wireless headphones. When you spent the day cleaning or cooking, you always had music playing in the background and sometimes you even put on your headphones so you could crank the volume without any noise complaints. 

  
Since you had slept late into the afternoon, you knew you wouldn’t sleep much more that night. Plus, your body was flooded with adrenaline from the previous day’s events. So, when you rolled over and saw that it was 6:00am, you decided to go ahead and get ready for the day. Yes, you normally hated getting up this early on your day off, even if you weren’t sleepy, but you wanted to apologize for the way things had gone down yesterday. You were pleased that Castiel had basically said you were staying, but you didn’t want to get on the bad side of Sam, and especially Dean, right from the start. 

  
You slipped on some yoga pants, a black tank top with the deathly hallows symbol, socks and tennis shoes. “_At least I won’t be half naked today._” You put your hair in a high ponytail, grabbed your phone and headphones and made your way to the kitchen. You powered up your headphones, put on your mix of favorite, random songs, placed your phone on the kitchen table so it’d be out of the way and got to work on your surprise for the boys. 

  
While Taylor Swift was telling you to “shake it off” you started a pot of coffee and made your way around the kitchen gathering ingredients for the first part of your gift. Luckily, you found everything you needed and in 20 minutes, the surprise was in the oven. Next, you were going to treat the boys to breakfast, hoping that a belly full of food would put them in a good mood. You decided on biscuits and gravy, your famous cheesy eggs and a special surprise for Dean, bacon pancakes. 

  
The oven dinged and you took out the cherry pie you had made for Dean, sliding in the biscuits to bake next. Just as you were working on the last batch of bacon pancakes, one of your favorite songs came on. It was a slower, sexier song and had always made you think of Dean Winchester. As the piano played the introduction of the song and a female sang, “_oh – oh, oh – oh, whoa, yeah,_” you hips instinctively started to sway from side to side.

  
_Take off those heels, lay on my bed_

_Whisper dirty secrets while I’m pulling on your hair_

_Poison in our veins, but we don’t even care_

_Candles dripping on your body, baby this ain’t truth or dare_

  
You pulled the last pancake off the griddle and set it on the plate with the others. You wondered if you had made too many, but knowing the Dean, the food wouldn’t go to waste. You placed the spatula in the sink and decided to just stand there and enjoy the rest of the song before setting the table and going to check to see if anyone was up. You closed your eyes and dropped your head back, rolling it back and forth, unconsciously bringing your right hand up to the top of your chest, running it across your skin. As the chorus came on, you let your body move to the music and unintentionally made humping motions in the air that were almost too obscene, but the rhythm and flow had taken over. 

_I’m gon’ ride, I’m gon’ ride, I’m gon’ ride_

_I’m, I’m gon’ ride on you baby, on you lady all night, all night_

_I’ma take care of your body, I’ll be gentle don’t you scream_

_It’s getting hotter, make it softer, feel your chest on top of me_

  
Suddenly, the music was gone. “_Did my phone die?_” You slipped off your headphones and turned around to see if you needed to go charge your phone. When you did, you realized that the battery hadn’t died. Dean had apparently walked in and paused the song on your phone. “_Holy shit, how long has he been here,_” you thought as your cheeks flushed a deep pink.

  


His hair was tussled with bedhead and he was in his “old man bathrobe” as you called it, but damn if he still didn’t look sexy as hell. You expected him to be rubbing his eyes, working the sleep out since he hadn’t had any coffee yet, but instead, you thought you saw lust and desire burning in his green orbs. His lips were slightly parted and his breathing was uneven. You could tell he was trying to contain himself as his voice cracked a little when he said, “Damn girl, I didn’t know I was gonna get a X-rated show so early this morning.”

  
Your breath hitched. You tried to maintain composure and gave him a small smile. You were simultaneously turned on and utterly embarrassed that he had caught you basically dry humping the kitchen counter. “Yeah . . . sometimes I get into the music and my body just takes over. Sorry.” You crossed the kitchen, desperately wanting to get your phone back from him, especially since your dumbass just realized you hadn’t changed the wallpaper yet. “_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_”

  
“I’m not sorry at all,” he said repeating your words from last night. “Damn sweetheart, what kind of music are you listening to that gets your body moving like that?”

  
“It’s just a random song on my playlist. Really, it’s no big deal,” you said crossing the room, desperate to have your phone back in your possession. 

  
He saw you coming for your phone and slipped it behind his back with one hand, reaching up and stopping you with his other by placing it against your shoulder. You felt the heat from his hand and it caused a shiver to radiate from the point of contact. You looked back up into his eyes, expecting to see green again, but they were almost black where his pupils were dilated. “Well, now you’ve piqued my curiosity. Care if I listen to it?”

  
“_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! No way are you letting Dean listen to the song that makes you think about him! ABORT! ABORT!_”

  
“Uh . . . Sure. Here, take my headphones and I’ll finish setting the table for breakfast.” Your inner self pursed her lips, rolled her eyes threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m going to need my phone back though to restart the song,” you uttered. 

  
“I think I can manage that myself,” he replied, finally getting a good look at your wallpaper. It was a picture of him, well the actor that played him, in a black button up shirt with a black leather jacket on top. He had about a week’s worth of stubble and was staring straight ahead from behind your screen. It made you smile and quiver every time you saw it. But now, it might cause you to die of embarrassment. 

“_Oh Chuck, kill me now, because I will never live this down._”

  
He looked up to you with one eyebrow raised, staring at your cheeks that were now as red as tomatoes. But, instead of giving you a hard time about seeing himself as your wallpaper, he simply asked, “Can I borrow your headphones?”

  
You quickly handed them over and watched as he slipped him over his ears and tapped the screen of your phone. Trying to distract yourself from the thick sexual tension in the air, you went to set the table and poured Dean a cup of coffee. You watched as he took in the lyrics from the song and noticed that he would occasionally close his eyes and bop his head to the rhythm. The seconds ticked by slowly, but just as you finished setting everything on the table, the song finally ended. 

  
He pulled off the headphones and walked toward you, “Wow, I can see why you were moving the way that you were. I think my poor virgin ears have been tainted.”

  
You rolled your eyes, “Dean, I’m pretty sure there’s no part of you that’s a virgin.”

  
He continued towards you, and you felt like prey under his predatory gaze. You tried to back away from him, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flap faster and faster the closer he got. However, when the back of your thighs hit the edge of the table, you knew you had nowhere else to run. When he was finally chest to chest with you, he reached down and cupped your chin, letting his thumb run along the length of your bottom lip. Your breathing was shallow and quick in anticipation of what he would do next. He licked his lips and whispered, “Princess, there’s one thing I can think of that I definitely haven’t done before.” 

  
You whimpered slightly and stared into his eyes as he leaned down closer to you. 

  
This is when Sam decided to come waltzing into the kitchen, fully dressed, but hair still slightly damp from his morning shower. “Mmmmm, it smells good in here! Who cooked breakfast?” he asked before noticing how close you and Dean were. “Oh, did I interrupt something?”

  
Dean dropped his hand, frustrated at the interruption. He turned his head around to look at his brother, “Yeah Sammy, you kind of did!”

  
You took a deep breath and smiled shyly towards Sam, “It’s ok, we were uh . . . just talking . . . about music.”

  
Sam looked skeptical, “Riiiiight.”

  
“Anyway, I did make breakfast. I was hoping to get on the Winchester’s good side this morning by feeding you. I’m hoping we can start fresh today and maybe discuss how much of what I think I know matches up with your history.”

  
“Sounds good princess,” Dean agreed. He had slipped his hand into yours and was pulling you down to sit at the table beside him. 

  
Sam poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down, looking over the food appreciatively, but Dean looked disappointed at the spread. “Something wrong Dean?” Sam asked. 

  
“Well, supposedly she knows a lot about us, but where’s the bacon? Bacon is the best part of breakfast, well any meal really, but especially breakfast.” He reached below the table and gave your knee a light squeeze. “Better luck next time.”

  
You were getting slightly used to the little electrical tingles that accompanied his touch, so you didn’t sound as wrecked when you replied, “Dean, there’s actually bacon here. I put bacon in the pancakes.” 

  
His jaw dropped, “No way? Bacon IN the pancakes?”

  
“Mhm,” you nodded proudly, “first you fry the bacon and then you pour pancake batter around it and let it cook all the way through on both sides. It’s really simple.”

  
“This is frickin’ awesome!” he remarked, smiling so big you could see those adorable crows’ feet wrinkled up around his eyes. You truly thought that nothing could make this man unattractive. He immediately placed five pancakes on his plate, poured on some syrup and took a giant mouthful. You couldn’t help but laugh at how he could go from a Greek sex God, to an adorable, goofy child in less than two minutes. 

  
“Dean, save some for the rest of us!” Sam whined. Dean moaned as he chewed the first bite and looked over to you, “These are really good. I feel like I’ve been deprived my whole life. Now, if I can get you to make me a pie, I might consider keeping you around with no further arguments.” 

  
It was your turn to give him a bitchface. “Well feathers says I’m staying, so there will be no need for further arguments. But, as a matter of fact, I made a cherry pie too. I put it back in the oven so it would stay warm.” 

Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Dean, what kind of deal did you make with Crowley to bring (Y/N) here?” Sam asked, only half kidding. You smiled, proud that the boys were getting a good breakfast and at the fact that you had managed to surprise Dean with his favorite food for the second time that morning. Dean tried to come up with a smart ass response, but all he could mange was a sincere, “Thanks babe,” as he held your gaze for several seconds. 

  
He went back to eating, but only with one hand. He had kept his other under the table to hold yours. As breakfast progressed, he would give you gentle squeezes or rub his thumb across your palm. At first, you were surprised by his incessant need for contact, not that it was unwelcome by any means. “_But, come on! This is Dean fucking Winchester sitting holding your hand while you eat breakfast side by side!_” But when he refused to let your hand go for even a second, you decided to enjoy the moment. After all, who says “no” to this man when he insists on holding your hand?

  
You stole glances at each other all through breakfast and you were pretty sure Sam was judging his brother hard by the pointed stares, but Dean either didn’t notice or didn’t care. You, on the other hand, were feeling comforted by the fact that this Dean seemed to be pretty much the same as the one you knew from your reality. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I continue to look forward to sharing my story with you beautiful people!


	8. Need to Know Basis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters and you sit down to discuss how much of their life and what you know match up. That’s when you realize that you have a heartbreaking decision to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to everyone that’s been leaving kudos and comments! They continue to inspire me!

After breakfast, Dean went to change his clothes while you and Sam offered to clean up. He came strolling back into the kitchen a few minutes later wearing faded jeans, his boots, a black T-shirt and an army green button up. His hair was now spiked up in its usual manner and he leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed, “So, how about that pie, princess?”

  
Sam was putting away the last of the dishes, “Really Dean? You ate at least half the food she cooked. How can you still be hungry?”

  
“It’s pie,” Dean replied, as if that were explanation enough. 

  
“Sam, don’t you know there’s a whole separate stomach for dessert?” you added, grabbing the pie from the oven, two plates, a serving knife and two forks and walking it over to the table. “Here you go big boy, dig in.” Dean wagged his eyebrows and made a beeline for his favorite dessert. 

  
“You’re gonna have him spoiled,” Sam warned from across the room.

  
“Eh, I’ll put him in his place if he gets out of line,” you replied, mussing Dean’s hair.

  
He playfully smacked at your hand as he took the first bite of his pie. His eyes rolled back into his head and a low rumble emanated from his chest. “Son of a bitch,” he said smacking his hand on the table and licking the fork clean, “that’s awesome!” 

“Cut me a slice, please,” you requested, sitting next to him, “Sam, you want any?”

  
Sam looked over to Dean. He had placed a piece of pie on a plate for you and was now back to shoveling the cherry delicacy into his mouth, “Maybe later, I think I just lost my appetite.”

  
“Your loss Sammy,” Dean said in between bites. 

  
You rolled your eyes and took a bite of your slice. An appreciative moan escaped your lips, “Damn, this is good. I did better than I thought.”

  
“You bet your sweet ass you did,” Dean praised with a mouthful of the cherry pastry. His lips were stained red from the pie filling and if Sam hadn’t been in the room, you may have considered leaning over to lick his lips. But, common decency stopped you . . . for now.

  
A few minutes later, you three were making your way to the library. Sam was eager to get down to business. Dean was walking slowly, his bowed legs barely shuffling across the floor. He was rubbing his stomach when he suddenly let out a burp that echoed through the bunker. 

  
“Really, Dean?” Sam groaned, “Disgusting.” 

  
“Must’ve been the second slice of pie. But damn it was so good; totally worth it. That just may be the best pie I’ve ever had in my life.”

You were following behind and surprised yourself by letting out a burp that rivaled Dean’s. They both stopped to turn and look at you. Sam was shocked, but Dean looked a little proud. “That’s my girl,” he stated, coming back to wrap his arms around your shoulder. 

  
Sam whined, “Great, now there’s two of them.”

  
Dean guided you towards the library and you two sat on one side of the table while Sam went to get a notebook and piece of paper. He was finally eager to be able to quiz you and write down exactly what you knew about him, his brother, their lives as hunters and, most importantly, the future. Dean on the other hand, was almost in a food coma. He placed a hand on your knee and stroked it slowly while Sam began his interrogations. 

You covered everything from Sam’s LSAT scores to Dean killing Hitler, which caused him to puff out his chest and smile with pride. You discussed their father’s demon deal, Dean’s demon deal, his time in hell, Sam’s addiction to demon blood, Lilith, the apocalypse, Sam losing his soul, the leviathans, the mark of Cain, Amara, their mother coming back from the dead and the British men of letters. Everything you knew seemed to match up exactly to what they had experienced. After three hours and just as many cups of coffee, your brain was fried. Dean could tell that it was all taking a toll on you, so he stood up to massage your shoulders. 

  
“Damn, it sounds like everything you watched is pretty consistent to what really happened,” Sam stated. You nodded your head because by this point, you jaw was starting to ache from all the talking. He continued, “Now, no offense, (Y/N), but you could have figured all this out just by reading the books or talking to other hunters. Isn’t there anything else you can tell us that no one would know?” Sam asked. 

  
Dan rolled his eyes, “Hey, the girl is legit, why can’t you just accept that and move on?”

  
“Because Dean, with everything we’ve gone through, I just have to be skeptical. You obviously don’t seem capable of being objective about the situation,” he replied, staring at Dean’s hands on your shoulders. 

  
He continued to rub your shoulders gently, but practically snarled, “Knock it off Sammy!”

  
You reached back and patted one of Dean’s hands, “It’s OK. I’m kind of flattered that Sam believes I would do that much investigating just to try and get close to you all. As a matter of fact, I do have one top secret piece of information that may prove I am who I’ve been saying I am this whole time. But, it’s about Dean.”

  
“Me? Princess, I have no secrets. I’m an open book,” he answered confidently. 

  
“Oh yeah,” you wiggled your eyebrows at Sam, “Well, what about Rhonda . . . Hurley?”

  
Dean’s hands went still on your shoulders. He removed them from you completely and returned slowly to sit in his chair, eyeing you with curiosity, “What . . . what do you think you know about Rhonda Hurley?”

  
“You’re really gonna make me say it, in front of Sam?”

  
“Doll, I think you’re bluffing, so you go ahead and say whatever you want.”

  
“Ok, but remember, you asked for it. You knew Rhonda when you were a wee nineteen year old boy. She made you try on something . . . something pink? And you know what, you kinda liked it.”

  
Dean was staring at you, opened mouth in disbelief as your words lingered in the air. After a few moments, Sam piped up, “Well, what was it? What did she have him try on?”

  
“She had him try on a –” but you words were cut off by Dean’s hand across your mouth. “It doesn’t matter, she’s telling the truth. And no one but me and Rhonda knew about that.”

  
Dean removed his hand, “Do not tell Sam any more, you understand? Not another word.” 

  
  


  
“I’m not keeping any promises,” you answered with a wink. You looked over at Sam and you could tell he was curious. After all, he thought he knew everything about his brother. But, the fact that you seemed to know something so personal about Dean seemed to finally convince him that you were no danger and your story was true. 

  
“So, what now? Do you know what’s going to happen next?” Sam asked. 

  
“Well, the British men of letters are a bag of dicks. They will eventually end up brainwashing your mom and trying to kill all of the American hunters. There is one good guy, Mick Davies, but they end up killing him when he starts to defy their ‘code’,” you held up your hands making air quotes and giving the boys a disgusted look. 

  
“I knew we couldn’t trust those pompous crumpet eating douchebags,” Dean said with disdain. “So, why don’t we just storm in and take out Harry Potter and his friends now, before they can do any of that? Hey, it’ll give me an excuse to use the grenade launcher!”

  
You countered,“But Dean, some of the things they do lead you guys to getting back the colt and killing the alpha vampire. So for now, I think you should just play along with them and when things start to get hairy, I can let you know and we can deal with it then.”

  
“Sam and I will deal with it, doll. You will either be back home or far from the action,” Dean stated matter-of-factly. 

  
“I’m not getting into this argument with you again; I’m not going anywhere!” you snapped, sitting up straight in your chair. 

  
“Well see about that.”

  
“Look here Winchester – ” you started, but before you could continue, Sam cut you off. He was not looking forward to another yelling match between the two of you. “Well, what about Lucifer? Last we heard he was inhabiting Vince Vincente, a hair metal singer, but then Rowena managed to speed up the decaying process of his vessel and banished him to the bottom of an ocean. Any idea if he’s gone for good or when or where he might pop up again?”

  
You rolled your eyes at Dean and started to tell Sam all about how Lucifer survived and his plans to cause chaos and eventually father a child, but you hesitated. Telling him this would mean they would be on the hunt for Lucifer again. If they tracked him down before he found his fossilized angel wing, he would be weak enough that they could send him back to the cage. If that happened, Jack would never be born. Yes, he had ultimately ended up killing Mary Winchester, but with you there, you could possibly prevent all of this. Of course, this would mean lying to Sam and Dean, something that you had promised them you wouldn’t do. You were truly stuck between a rock and a hard place; Jack’s life versus lying to your Winchesters. 

  
“Uh . . . Lucifer? He’s still roaming free on Earth?” you asked, stalling for time.

  
Sam answered, “Yeah, wasn’t he in your world?”

  
You took a deep breath and prayed that in the months to come, the brothers would forgive you for what you were about to do. “No, no he wasn’t. When you all were in the warehouse fighting Amara, she blasted him out of Castiel’s body and sent him back to the cage herself. He hasn’t been an issue since then.” 

  
“Really?” Dean questioned, “That seems like a pretty big difference, especially when everything else has matched up perfectly.”

  
“I know, right? But that’s what happened. Instead, the writers focused on the British men of letters and Crowley was on a mission to destroy all the angels that were still alive.” You hoped that by giving them an alternate story, that they would believe you knew nothing about Lucifer and his location. You didn’t know it at the time, but both of them had noticed you stalling. However, you had given them no reason to not trust you up to this point, so they took your word at face value. 

  
“Hey, we need to call Jody right away,” you announced, trying to change the subject.

  
“What for?” Sam asked, already pulling out his phone and searching for Jody’s number.

  
“Because, we’re gonna save Asa Fox!” you stated proudly. 

  
“Who the hell is Asa Fox? Wait, isn’t he the guy that killed five wendigos in one night?” Dean asked, putting his arm around you shoulders. 

  
You started to explain, “Yes, that’s him and he’s a . . . friend of Jody’s. He’s a hunter up in Canada and he’s about to die. But, if we can warn him, maybe we can save not only him, but some other friends of his as well. Your mom actually saved him from a werewolf in the early eighties when he was a child. She was the reason he became a hunter.”

  
“No shit, really?” Dean asked.

  
“Mhm, even after you were born, she couldn’t stop hunting. The need runs pretty deep in your bloodline.”

  
Sam had the phone pressed up to his ear and the line started to ring as you finished speaking. After a few seconds, Sam spoke, “Hey Jody, how are you and the girls? Yeah, that’s good to hear. Us? Well, everything is going . . . .well things are weird. But long story short, we have someone here who, uh, she, well she’s . . .” Sam shrugged his shoulders, not knowing how to explain your presence. 

  
Dean grabbed the phone from his brother and set it on the table, putting it on speakerphone. “Hey Jody, it’s Dean, you’re on speaker now. We have a friend here who is a psychic. Listen, do you know anyone by the name of Asa Fox?”

  
“Yeah, I do. Why?” Jody asked cautiously. 

  
“Because she says he and some people he knows are in danger,” Dean nodded to you, signaling that it was your turn to speak. 

  
“_So, now I’m a psychic huh? Guess it’s probably not a smart idea to advertise I’m from an alternate reality with three years worth of foreknowledge about their world._”

  
“Hi Jody, my name is (Y/N). Listen, you need to get ahold of Asa as soon as possible. Or wait, think you can conference him in on this call? Then he can get the story straight from me.”

  
“Guys, are you sure this girl is the real deal?” Jody said, ignoring your request. 

  
Sam smiled warmly at you, “Trust us Jody, she’s the real deal.”

  
“Ok, give me one second.” You heard *beeps* and *boops* as Jody worked to call Asa and transfer him into the call. After a few rings, you heard a male voice speak, “Well, well, well. I was just thinking about you the other night Jody. It’s been a while and – ”

  
“Asa!” Jody quickly chimed in before he could reveal that they were slightly more than friends. “We are not alone on the line.”

  
“Oh,” Asa cleared his throat, “I see. Well, who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

  
“I’ve got Sam and Dean Winchester on the phone here too. They say they have a psychic friend, (Y/N), who says she needs to speak with you. It sounds pretty urgent.”

  
“Sam and Dean Winchester? Hey, is your mother Mary?” Asa asked. 

  
Dean spoke up, “Yeah, she is.”

  
“Well I’ll be damned. How’s she doing?”

  
Dean turned his head side to side before answering, “It’s a long story Asa and we don’t have much time. But, she’s doing good.”

  
“Ok, well tell her I said ‘hi’ and ‘thanks for everything’. Well, despite everything else in the supernatural world, I’ve really never put much stock in psychics. But if the infamous Winchesters are backing her up, I’ll listen. So, go on darling, what do you see in your crystal ball about my future,” he asked mockingly. 

  
“_This cocky son of a bitch doesn’t believe you! Sure, he doesn’t know you, but still, it’s kind of insulting._”

  
“So, Asa, have you seen Jael recently?” There was a long pause. “Hello? Asa?”

  
Finally, he answered angrily, “How the hell do you know about Jael?”

  
“Hey man, calm down. She’s just trying to help save your ass,” Dean snapped.

  
“Ok boys, put it back in your pants. Now is not the time for a measuring contest,” Jody chimed in. 

  
You continued, “I know all about Jael, Asa. He’s a crossroads demon, right? I know what happened in the late nineties and how he came back a few years later when you were dating um . . . what was her name . . . Marlene!”

  
“How could you possibly know all of this,” Asa wondered out loud. 

  
“I know it’s unbelievable, but listen Asa, have you seen or heard from him recently?”

  
“No, no I haven’t. Is he coming back?”

  
You sighed, happy that you had caught him in time before Bucky accidentally murdered him in the woods. “Listen Asa, really soon, he’s going to pop back up. I don’t know exactly when or where, but he does. When that happens, you need to reach out for help; he’s going to be too much to take on alone. You end up chasing him in the woods and your friend, Bucky, gets pissed off at you for being so stubborn and going after him without your angel blade. He pushes you and you hit your head on a rock and die.”

  
“Wow, so I’m not even taken out by Jael? It’s a fucking fall and a rock to the head? How . . . anticlimactic.” Asa mused. 

  
Jody chimed in, “Listen Asa, whenever that demon pops back up, you call me. I’ll come help you hunt the fucker down.”

  
“Us too,” Sam added, looking towards Dean who nodded in agreement. 

  
“That’s right, Asa. We’re always ready to take down one of those red eyed sons of bitches,” Dean confirmed. 

  
“Well, I’m still not one hundred percent sold, but if he does show up, I’ll call. Anything else I should know?”

  
This part was going to be kind of awkward. The show never really made it clear if Asa knew about the twins he had fathered with Tasha Banes. You tried to approach the subject as delicately as possible. 

  
“Yeah,” you started slowly, “there is one more thing. Do you remember a woman named Tasha Banes and her twins, Max and Alicia?”

  
“What about them?” he asked. 

  
“You should call Tasha. She’s going to be alone and hunting a witch in Wyoming soon. She finally tracks her down to a boarding house and when she does, the witch ends up killing her and then Alicia when she goes searching for her mother. But, if you warn them, maybe all three of them can take down the witch together.”

  
Despite the seriousness of the situation, you chucked a little when you heard Dean whisper, “Frickin’ witches,” while shaking his head. 

  
“Ok, I’ll reach out to Tasha as well. (Y/N), if this all turns out to be true and you save us, I’m taking you out for a night of drinking, darling” 

  
“Well, Asa, I’m flattered,” you chuckled. You looked over and saw Dean roll his eyes, not amused at all by this flirtatious turn of events. You rolled your eyes, “Well, that’s it. I don’t have any more death omens or warnings for you.”

  
“Thanks again, (Y/N). Jody, I’ll be in touch. Stay safe,” Asa said before hanging up. 

  
“Yeah, yeah, will do agent Fox Mulder.” Jody joked before her attention back to you and the Winchesters, “Boys, stay safe down there in Kansas. I’ll talk to you soon.” 

  
“Take care Jody,” Sam added before hanging up. 

  
Once the call was finished, you leaned back in your chair and let your head fall back, eyes closed. You let out a deep breath, “I don’t think I have ever talked as much in my entire life as I have this morning. I am worn out.”

  
“Yeah, but you probably just saved at least three lives, (Y/N),” Sam said encouragingly. 

  
“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Dean said, squeezing your shoulder. “As a reward for all of your hard work this morning, I wanna show you something you might appreciate. Do you know about Baby?”

  
Your head immediately snapped up and suddenly, you weren’t tired anymore. You were beaming from ear to ear, “Oh yeah, I know all about Baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think about the reader’s decision to keep Lucifer’s plans a secret? Do you think she should have told them or do you think she’s making the right decision?


	9. Shop Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean spend some one on one time with Baby in the garage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter, filler chapter setting up events for the next one, which will be posted shortly!

“Wow,” you said in awed reverence for the fifth time as you continued to circle the famous 1967 Chevrolet Impala, admiring her from every angle. Every once in a while, you would bend down to look inside or stop to slide your hand along her frame, touching her to make sure she was real. “She is spectacularly breath taking.” 

  
“Yeah, she is,” Dean added, but you didn’t notice that he wasn’t staring at Baby when he said that. 

  
“Three hundred and twenty seven four barrel engine, two hundred and seventy-five horsepower, black leather bench seats and a trunk full of weapons and a devil’s trap. She is truly cherried out.” You looked up to Dean, beaming with a twinkle in your eye. 

  
He was standing a few feet back, staring at you in amazement, “You know all that about her?”

  
“Well yeah,” you blushed, “I love Baby. She’s always been there for your family and there’s a lot of history in her. I’ve always wanted to have a car just like her, but she goes for forty to fifty grand in my world, due to the popularity of the show.”

  
“Really?” 

  
“Yeah, Baby’s ass is prime real estate.”

  
Dean chuckled, “So what kind of car did you have?”

  
“My car? Well, you probably wouldn’t have thought it was anything special but, like Baby, she’s been there for me these past several years and . . . No, no way!” 

  
When you had entered the garage with Dean, you had been laser focused on the most important object in history and didn’t notice any of the other vehicles parked nearby. But now that you had a chance to properly fangirl, your eyes drifted around to take in the rest of your surroundings. When you glanced over Dean’s shoulders, you noticed a familiar shape in the background. Sure, it could’ve been any Kia Soul, but you had decorated the back of your car with stickers from your favorite fandoms. 

  
You quickly rushed past a befuddled Dean and made your way over to your car, “Dean, this is it! This is my car! Meet Kia Kat,” you announced proudly. 

  
Dean made his way slowly over to you, taking in your vehicle. “Kia Kat?” he said skeptically. 

  
“Yeah, cause she purrs like a kitten,” you replied as you turned around to seductively ran your hand down his chest. 

  
“_Where the hell did that come from?_” your inner self asked, stunned and wide eyed. 

  
Dean bit his lip and was seconds away from backing you up against your trunk, when he noticed your bumper stickers. “What is all of this? A blue phone box, ‘mouse rat’ and . . . . really? A mermaid?”

  
“Hey, I have my interests just as much as the next person. Don’t be a hater Dean.”

  
He pursed his lips and stared as you tried to defend yourself. “You’re a bit of a nerd aren’t you?”

  
You nodded proudly, “I will take that as a compliment. Everyone needs a little bit of magic and fantasy in their life. Besides, you don’t see any stickers that you secretly like?” 

  
He glanced over the back again and smirked, “‘Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole’. Ok, that one is pretty awesome.”

  
“See!”

  
“Yeah yeah, well my Baby is still cooler.”

  
“Oh, I’m not denying that, but my little Kia can hold her own, no matter how nerdy you think she may be.”

  
“Mmhhmm, sure” Dean uttered as he reached over to place a hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Hey, what if we go for a ride in Baby? Get some fresh air?”

  
“Really? Can I drive?” you queried. Dean immediately looked uncomfortable, not wanting to be brash and squash the excitement he heard in your voice. Before he could answer, you snickered and let him off the hook, “I’m just kidding, I know no one is really allowed to drive Baby but you, unless it’s a dire emergency.” He seemed relieved that you understood one of his little quirks and had no ill will towards his aversion to letting you drive. 

  
“While we’re out, maybe I can pick up some things? The fridge is looking bare and I want to cook for you and Sam. If I’m going to be here, I can at least make sure you guys are eating well. Plus, I need some basic supplies like shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush, et cetera. Think we can make that happen?”

  
“As long as you buy travel sizes, because you’re going home soon. I’m going to find a way to get you back home safely (Y/N),” he promised sincerely. 

  
You pulled away from and headed towards the door that led from the garage to the bunker, “Winchester, we were having such a good time, don’t ruin it. I’m going to grab a jacket and I’ll be right back. Oh!” you paused before walking through the door, “Prepare yourself. I know you and Sam don’t do the whole ‘apple pie’, normal life routine, but I am a huge fan of Christmas and if I’m here, we are decorating and we are celebrating this year. Be back in five minutes.”

  
“There’s no point, you aren’t going to be here in a month,” Dean tried to yell at you, but you were already gone. Dean huffed and rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a small groan.

  
“_My soulmate is supposedly a nerd who loves Christmas and drives a damn Kia Soul_,” Dean thought, shaking his head at your car. “_Fucking adorable_.”

  
You stopped to let Sam know that you and Dean were leaving before heading back to the garage. You retuned wearing a black open front cardigan that had Ariel from “_The Little Mermaid_” on the back. Rounding the car to get in the front passenger seat, you heard Dean whisper, “Seriously, another mermaid?” You were pretty sure he didn’t intend for you to hear it, but you weren’t about to let it go. 

  
You opened the front, passenger door, relishing in the familiar high pitched squeak. But, before you climbed in, you retorted, “Hey Winchester, don’t give my girl Ariel crap. Besides,” you added with a wink, “she’s the one that reminds us that ‘everything’s better down where it’s wetter’.” 

  
“_You did not just use a Disney movie to reference a wet pussy!_” your doubtful self yelled. “_Oh yes she did_,” the sexy part of you purred, “_and it was totally worth it. Look at his face_.” 

  
Dean’s jaw dropped and you managed to give him a chaste grin before sliding into the front seat. You had time to sink down into the seat and let the cool leather graze across the back of your neck before Dean finally opened his door. You could smell hints of oil and fast food, which wouldn’t typically sound appealing, but it made you think of the adventures the boy had in her and gave you an adrenaline rush. 

  
“You know,” Dean commented as he started up the engine and AC/DC started crooning about a highway to hell, “for a nerd, you’re a pretty big fucking tease. Are you always like this?”

  
“Play your cards right and you just might find out.” 

  
You noticed Dean shift in his seat several times before he finally reached up and put Baby into gear. The tires squealed and the roar of the engine made you shiver in anticipation as he took off like a bat out of hell from the garage, leading you out into the open world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think the reader is too dorky or do you think it’s a nice change of pace that Dean’s soulmate is so much different than him?


	10. Three Little Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean get to know each other a little better while riding in Baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to play favorites, but I think this may be my most favorite chapter I’ve written yet, so I hope you all enjoy it.

Even though it was too cold out to enjoy the breeze, you were still able to savor the view from inside Baby. “_Ok, I’m going to wake up any second. This cannot be real_.” You were constantly rubbing your hands along the seat, just to make sure you were still there and not in your bed back in Kentucky. 

  
Several minutes passed in silence, but there was no awkward need to fill the air with conversation. You and Dean were able to sit and just enjoy each other’s company. The rocky road eventually turned into pavement and the view shifted from a forest of trees to the flatlands of Kansas. 

  
Dean was also enjoying just being with you one on one, but he wanted to take the time to get to know you. Just because Amara and Castiel said you were his soulmate and just because he felt more attracted to you than any woman he’d met before, despite barely knowing you for 24 hours, he was skeptical that you were the one woman he was destined to be with.

  
“So,” he started, “we have about a thirty minute drive, why don’t get to know each other a little better. Well, I’d like to get to know you. Sounds like you pretty much know everything about me, including Rhonda Hurley.” You smiled, biting your lip to keep from laughing. He briefly glanced over at you, “You know Sammy is not going to let that go until he finds out what she had me try on.” 

  
“Eh, just make something up if you really don’t want to tell him,” you said shrugging your shoulders. 

  
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to be work,” he rolled his eyes. “Anyway, let me ask you a few questions and learn more about you.”

  
“I’m flattered Dean, really. But, if you are so intent on sending me home as soon as possible, do you really want to waste the time to get to know me?”

  
He cocked his head to the side before glancing over at you, “Let’s just say I’m curious to understand you. It’s not everyday that a random woman shows up in my life with a mysterious letter, especially a dorky one that manages to also have a filthy mind and turns me on every time I talk to her.”

  
You blushed and bit your cheek to keep from smiling too big. “_Dean did not just admit you turned him on. Ok, so it’s not just me who is constantly aroused by the other’s presence_.”

  
“Well, when you put it that way, who am I to refuse? But, if you get to ask me a question, I get to ask you one. Just because I know the major events in your history doesn’t mean I know everything about you.”

  
“Ok princess, fair is fair. Ladies first, what do you wanna know?”

  
“Oh gosh . . . I wasn’t prepared for this. Um . . .”

  
“Come on doll, you can ask me anything. I won’t bite, unless you want me to,” he winked at you and you just about came undone right then and there. You crossed your legs, your core instinctively searching for friction. 

  
“Ok, what’s your favorite color?” you blurted out, wincing at your lack of imagination. 

  
He sucked in his breath through his teeth and smiled “See doll, now you’ve gone way too far. Too personal.” His playful nature cut through some of the sexual tension and you wondered how long you would be able to resist ripping off your clothes and throwing yourself at him. You were trying to keep a little dignity, because you knew about his reputation and didn’t want to just wind up as another one night stand. Plus, you weren’t sure if you were brave enough to make the first move, despite all the positive signals he was sending you. 

  
Finally, he answered,“I guess I’d have to pick red. What about you doll?”

  
“Green. Emerald green to be exact.”

  
“Oh, I see,” he replied, dropping his right hand from the wheel and placing his hand almost too high on your left thigh. “My turn. So, you ever use your nursing uniform to play doctor with some lucky son of bitch in your world?”

  
You looked at him in disbelief, “Talk about personal!”

  
“Hey, it’s not my fault if your first question wasn’t juicy enough. So, spill sweetheart. What’s the answer?”

  
“No, I’ve never role played that fantasy before, but I wouldn’t be against trying it out. You ever get a check up from a nurse?”

  
“Only in a hospital and not in a fun way. But, I’m not against a little adventure either,” he answered, giving your thigh a firm squeeze.

  
Your sexy inner self was practically panting, “_Girl, take him to bed now! Consequences be damned!_”

  
“Ok, I think I got something better. Vegas - I know you and Sam make an annual pilgrimage. So, what’s the wildest thing you’ve done.”

  
“Hey, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, remember?”

  
“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this that easily. Come on Dean, I know about your wild past. I’m curious to hear how exactly crazy you can get.”

  
You felt his thumb stroke back and forth across your leg a few times before he finally answered, “Ok, fine. So, Sammy and I were at a strip club, as one does in Vegas, and there were these . . . triplets. They were the headliners and they had this gimmick where one was a blonde, one was a brunette and the third was a ginger. Let’s just say that Sammy slept in the Impala that night. It was . . . epic.”

  
You were a little jealous of the triplets, but you knew it had just been a one night stand, the very thing you wanted to avoid. “Damn, I don’t think I have a story that can top that.”

  
“No? Well, we’ll have to see if we can change that,” he replied, winking at you with a side grin and promise in his eyes. You silently prayed that you wouldn’t leave a wet spot of arousal on the Impala’s seat. 

  
“All right doll, I’ll give you a break. Got a favorite movie?”

  
“‘_Memoirs of a Geisha_’,” you answered without hesitation. 

  
“Really? Well, it’s a Japanese film, so you get half a point for that.”

  
“I’ll take it. What about you Dean, is it some Clint Eastwood film or western? What’s your all time favorite movie?”

  
“Eh, I think I’m gonna have to with ‘_The Untouchables_’. After all, I did meet Elliot Ness,” he said proudly. 

  
“I hear it’s a classic.”

  
“Well of course it is! Wait, have you never seen it?” he asked, briefly taking his eyes off the road to stare at you in disbelief. 

  
You shrugged your shoulders guiltily, “Sorry, I haven’t.”

  
“Oh, hell no, we are going to have to rectify that as soon as possible. Major foul princess. That’s a whole lot of points you just lost,” he said with a wink. 

  
You playfully smacked his shoulder, “Shut up idjit.” 

  
The two of you had settled in a natural banter and before you knew it, you had scooted across the bench and were practically sitting side by side with your leg flushed against his. He lifted his arm from your thigh and placed it around your shoulder, giving you a little squeeze. 

  
“My turn,” Dean spoke up, “what’s your favorite flower?”

  
“Tulips. Pink tulips with baby’s breath to be exact.”

  
“Geez, you are a girly little thing aren’t you?” he teased.

  
“What gave it away, my boobs?” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. 

  
His hand dropped down from your shoulder and dipped under your tank top. His fingers lazily began to rub back and forth across the part of your right breast that wasn’t covered by your bra. You leaned your head up towards his ear, eyes closed as you reveled in the feeling of skin on skin contact. “Listen here Dean,” you said, barely above a whisper, “don’t start anything you don’t intend on finishing.”

  
He looked down at you with heavy lidded eyes, “Hey, I can pull over anywhere.”

  
You thought about it for a moment. Having him take you hard and fast right then and there in the Impala would be any girl’s fantasy. But now, this was your actual life and you weren’t ready to have something you had dreamed about for so long be over so quickly. Mustering all your strength, you reached up and grabbed his hand away from your breast, placed it on your shoulder and said, “You’d be so lucky.”

  
“See, fucking _tease_, man,” Dean said jokingly, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. 

  
“All right, back to the cross-examination. I know you love classic rock, but who is your all time favorite artist?”

  
“Now you’re asking the hard questions babe,” he took a deep breath and sighed, “If I had to pick one and just one, it’d be Led Zeppelin. What about you, who’s your favorite artist?”

  
You cringed at the question, “You are going to judge me so hard, I don’t know if I want to tell you.”

  
“Hey, I told you about the triplets, you can tell me about this.”

  
“Fine, fine fine. Ok, I know it’s supposed to be one, but I actually have a tie. The first one is . . . Taylor Swift.”

  
He shook his head vigorously back and forth and he stated mockingly, “No, no, no please don’t say it’s so!”

  
“I know, I know, I’m a girly girl, I’m a nerd and a loser.”

  
“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” he asked, stunned at the differences between the two of you.

  
“Hey, at least I’m not boring.”

  
“That is very true,” he replied giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Wait, you said you had two. Who’s the other? I swear if you say someone like Miley Cyrus or Justin Bieber, I’m pulling this car over and giving you the boot.”

  
“No, it’s actually a little known artist. Well, he’s well known in my world, but not a whole lot of people know he can sing. It’s actually the actor that plays you, Jensen Ackles.”

  
“Really?” he asked raising an eyebrow. 

  
“Yes, he has a surprising good voice, which leads me to believe that you are secretly an excellent singer.”

  
“Well, too bad we’ll never find out.”

  
“Oh, I bet I can convince you one day.”

  
“Good luck with that princess,” he continued, “So, you got any tattoos?”

  
“No, I have several ideas for ones that I want, but I’ve been too chicken to see it through. Guess you could say I have virgin skin.”

  
Dean licked his lips, “See, you can’t say things like that and just expect me not to react.”

  
“I thought I was a nerdy girly girl though?”

  
His voice was deeper when he answered, “Apparently, I like that.”

  
Feeling emboldened, you placed your left hand on his right knee and rubbed your thumb in little circles, “Good to know.”

  
Before things got too carried away, you asked, “Hey, shouldn’t I get the anti possession tattoo like you and Sam? If I’m going to be here, it’s better to be safe than sorry, right?”

  
“We’ll scrounge up an anti possession necklace or something, no need to mark up that virgin skin if you’re going home.”

  
You felt the anger come rushing back and took in a deep breath, “Winchester, we have already discussed this ad nauseam and —” but you were cut off when the car stopped and he announced, “Oh look, we’re here!” You had been so enraptured in the conversation that you didn’t realize you had arrived at a big box retail store. “Guess we’ll have to finish the tattoo conversation another time.”

  
You narrowed your eyes and pointed your right index finger into his chest, “This conversation isn’t over Winchester.”

  
“Yeah, yeah. Come on doll, let’s get your shopping done.”

  
*****

**Dean’s POV**

(Y/N) had been able to quickly find the personal toiletries she needed and then she and you had discussed potential meal ideas for the coming week, assuming you’d be at the bunker if a case didn’t pop up. She moved around the store gracefully, picking up several pounds of hamburger that she said she could use to either make a meatloaf or for spaghetti, pasta, pork chops and a whole grocery basket worth of other ingredients that you had never bought. Over ninety percent of your diet came in a paper bag, but your mouth was watering at the idea of her home cooked meals. After all, if everything she made was half as good as what she fixed for breakfast, it would be the best food you ever ate. 

  
She leisurely strolled down the baking aisle and you had never been so happy to be in a store, pushing a shopping cart. She picked out ingredients for a variety of desserts, including pie, and announced, “You know what Dean, I’m going to have to introduce you to banoffee pie.”

  
“Say what?”

  
She laughed and the sound floated through the air like a melody, “Banoffee. It’s a cross between bananas and toffee. Trust me, it’s good.”

  
“Hmmm, I don’t know. Sounds like some kind of Frankenstein concoction.”

  
She finished placing several cans of condensed milk in the cart and pulled you to face her. She wrapped her arms around your neck and looked deep into your eyes, “ Dean, oh Dean, oh Dean. It’s time you learned something.”

  
You smiled, laid your hands on her hips and pulled her closer. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

  
“You see Dean, there are three words that every girl wants to hear from a man. Three little words that make her happier than she’s ever been and will settle any argument.”

  
The grin faded from your face and your eyes got wide, but she continued to beam up at you, a twinkle in her eyes. “_Ok, she seemed like a cool girl. A little dorky, but also quick witted and sexy with a filthy mouth. But no way in hell am I saying that!_”

  
“The sooner you learn these three words, the easier your life is going to be. Those three magic words are,” she pulled you down until she was able to whisper in your ear, “‘you were right’”. 

  
You lifted your head up and sighed in relief, “That is not at all what I thought you were going to say.”

  
“I know, I had you going there for a minute didn’t I? But, I’m also serious, Winchester. I will also accept ‘you are right’ as a response.”

  
“I got three words for you doll, ‘never gonna happen’.”

  
“We’ll see,” she stated, dropping her hands from your neck, but you kept your hands firmly on her hips. She looked over to the cart and noticed how full it was, “Are you sure that it’s ok we’re getting all this? I feel guilty that I don’t have any money.”

  
“Of course, we’re not the ones paying for this stuff anyway. Credit cards remember?”

  
“I know, but still, you and Sam have to get those cards and, I don’t know, I just wish I could contribute financially.”

  
“If you keep us well fed, we’ll accept that as payment enough.”

  
“Good, because there’s one more aisle we need to hit up.” She pulled away from you and started walking away, but not before yelling over her shoulder, “Come on Dean, keep up if you can.”

  
You stood frozen for a few seconds and thought, “_Why do I feel like I just got played?_”

  
You grabbed the cart and started following her. She finally found her holy grail, the Christmas section of the store. You groaned externally, but inside, you were happy someone was forcing you into the holiday spirit. She eventually ran out of room in the cart and asked you to go grab another one, which you happily did. On the way back, you stopped by the liquor aisle, picking up some whiskey and beer for yourself and also some vodka and wine coolers for her. When you finally made your way back to her, she had picked out several boxes of lights, decorations, garland, wreaths and not one, not two, not three, but four mini Christmas trees. 

  
“Four? Why do we need _four_ trees?” you questioned. 

  
“Trust me, it’s going to be worth it. You’ll be saying those three little words to me in no time.” She then started to speak to you like she was speaking to a child, even reaching up to squeeze your cheeks and pinch your nose playfully, “Come on Dean, you can do it. Say it for me. ‘You are right’. I know you can do it.” 

  
You pulled your face away from her reach and playfully smacked her on the ass, “Ok, never gonna happen. Come on now, that’s enough baby talk out of you for today.”

  
She snickered, “Ok, well I think I’ve done enough damage. Ready to go?”

  
“Yeah, let’s get out of here princess. By the way, since your delicate nature can’t handle beer or whiskey, I picked you up some vodka and ‘fru fru drinks’,” you added, pointing to the cart. 

  
The funny looks you had received from the three other men in the liquor aisle were totally worth it when she looked to you with stars in her eyes, “Awww shucks Dean, thanks. You sure know how to make a little lady feel special.”

  
You retuned her smile and motioned as if you were tipping a cowboy hat, “Welcome, ma’am.”

  
As you followed her her to the check out center, you realized that your cheeks were sore. Ever since you left the bunker with her, you had been laughing or smiling. You puffed out your cheeks to ease the pain. Walking behind her, you couldn’t help but to become entranced by the sway of her hips and the bounce in her step. Suddenly, you realized something. 

  
“_Holy shit, I really like this girl. I can’t do this. I can’t start something with her; she’ll never want to leave and then she’ll die here. Lock it up Winchester, lock it up! From now on, no more flirting and no more touching. You’ve got to get her to want to go back home, soulmate or not_.”

  
That’s when you came up with the most idiotic idea you ever had. But fear not, you would outdo yourself in just a few short weeks with an even more halfwitted scheme. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments or feedback is always appreciated it! See you soon!


	11. Tug of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes a stupid decision to try and push you away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say THANK YOU to every single person reading this?! Thanks to everyone that has left a kudos and commented, especially Mrs_America and Winchesters_queen. I LOVE reading your comments and welcome any other feedback. I’m so glad that people are enjoying the story.

You shivered and pulled your cardigan tightly around your body on the way back to the bunker, but it wasn’t the weather that had you frozen to your core. Something in Dean had shifted. Previously, he was playful and smiling, but now, he was stoic and mute. He didn’t say a word while the cashier was ringing you up, or when the two of you were loading the bags into the car or since you pulled out of the store’s parking lot. Sure, you had been able to ride in silence together when you first left the bunker, but this felt different. He wasn’t looking at you and hadn’t even tried to touch you once since smacking your ass in the Christmas aisle. Instead, his hands were firmly gripping the wheel and he was staring straight ahead at the road as you made your way back to the Bunker. 

  
“_Is he pissed I got all the Christmas decorations? He really could’ve put everything back. Maybe he didn’t appreciate the baby talk or you trying to tell him that his life would be better if he admitted ‘you were right’. Maybe he finally realized he wasn’t interested in trying to screw a nerd._” 

“Dean, is everything ok?” you asked. 

  
“Yeah,” he answered while maintaining eye contact with the road. 

  
“_Ok then . . ._”

  
“Did I do something to piss you off? Look, we can always take the Christmas decorations back. I was just trying to spread some holiday cheer, ya know?”

  
“It’s fine.” He uttered quickly. 

  
You decided to try another approach,“So,” you started, reaching over to rub his shoulder, “what do you want for dinner? We have enough to feed an army now. Ooooh, I know! What about a bacon wrapped meatloaf and mashed potatoes?”

  
“I’ll pick up some pizza on the way back,” he answered, shrugging your hand away.

  
“Fine,” you replied, silently fuming. You folded your arms and turned away to face towards the window, desperate to put as much space between the two of you. You held back tears as feelings of rejection washed over you, because you’d be damned if Dean Winchester knew that he had just broke a small piece of your heart. 

  
Sam and Dean had volunteered to carry in the groceries and they had left the Christmas supplies on the war room table so you could put them up later. Sam had been surprised that his brother had actually let you bring home so many decorations, but Dean made up an excuse stating, “If it keeps her busy and out of the way, I don’t care what she does.” His words may as well have been a pickaxe, chipping away another sliver of your heart. 

  
During dinner, Sam noticed that you and Dean sat on different sides of the table for the first time since you arrived. He looked to you for an explanation, but you just shrugged your shoulders. Dean stared down at his plate and ate his pizza silently. 

  
When everyone was finished, Dean announced, “So, I think we should go out tonight, have a few drinks and unwind. This way (Y/N) can get a firsthand peek into our real lives.”

  
Normally, the thought of going to a bar with the Winchesters would’ve thrilled you, but after getting the cold shoulder from Dean for the last couple of hours, you were ready to curl up in bed and go to sleep. You almost declined their offer when Sam gave you his famous puppy dog eyes, “Sounds like fun, doesn’t it (Y/N)?” 

  
“_Goddamn it._”

  
You tried to say no, but Sam just continued to stare you down, begging you to go. You knew you’d regret your decision later, but you replied, “Yeah, sounds great. When do you wanna leave Dean?”

  
“Think you can manage to be ready in thirty minutes?” he asked condescendingly. 

  
“No problem,” you snapped. You slammed your hands on the table and headed up to your room to change. “_Oh, I’ll go and I’ll show him what a hell of a good time this nerd can be!_”

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
After you left the room, Sam looked to Dean, “Dude, what the hell is your problem? Why are being such a dick to her? You’ve been practically hanging off of her every moment since she’s shown up. I even started peaking around corners in case you all finally decided to have sex. What gives?”

  
Dean replied, “Nothing, I just don’t want to give her the wrong idea anymore. She needs to learn that there’s nothing for her in our world, so she’ll quit being so stubborn and help us get her back home to where she belongs”

  
Sam let you an exasperated sigh, “Dean, you really are the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

  
“Shut up, bitch.”

  
“Jerk.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
Upstairs, you were doing a final mirror check. Day to day, you usually dressed comfy and casual. But, whenever you did have the chance to go out, you dressed to the nines. You decided on your tightest pair of jeans, black faux leather knee high boots and a silk, red tank top with spaghetti straps that revealed just a little too much cleavage and gave a peak of your black bra underneath. You had pulled your hair down out of your pointy tail and curled it. Some simple silver hooped earrings completed your outfit. 

  
You even had enough time to apply some makeup, deciding on a dark smoky eye with deep red lipstick. You sprayed a little perfume and fluffed up your hair. You grabbed your black leather jacket and put it on over your top, zipping it up. You grabbed your wallet, which luckily at least had your ID in it, and adjusted your breasts one final time before leaving your room, making sure they were as perky as could be. “_Let’s go girls._”

  
Even though you had managed to get ready in twenty minutes, you weren’t able to find Dean or Sam anywhere. “Sam? Dean?,” you called out from the war room. “You guys ready to go?” 

  
When you didn’t get a response, you decided to make your way to the garage to wait for them, but they were already in the car and Dean was tapping his hand impatiently on the side of the Impala. You saw Sam shrug his shoulders and mouth, “Sorry,” from the passenger seat and you gave him a quick smile. Dean looked over to you and his hand stopped moving. He momentarily let his gaze linger on you, “Come on, let’s go!”

  
You scampered quickly over to the car and climbed into the back seat. You had barely closed the door when the car sped off, “Damn Dean! What’s your hurry?”

  
“(Y/N), we’ve already been waiting for ten minutes for you,” Dean answered, “we can’t wait on you forever to get ready. We’re not going anywhere special.”

  
“You said to be ready in thirty minutes and I was ready early!”

  
“I’m pretty sure I said to be ready in ten. Who the hell takes thirty minutes to get ready to go to a bar?” he asked with annoyance in his voice. 

  
You leaned forward so you were in between Sam and Dean. Looking towards the youngest Winchester, you said, “Sam, am I going crazy or did the idjit say to be ready in thirty minutes.”

  
Both you and Dean were staring at him, looking for him to pick your side. Sam’s eyes were full of fear as he looked back and forth between the two of you. Finally, he turned to look out his window and uttered, “Uh . . . I’m staying up of this.”

  
Dean pressed down on the gas a little harder and you flung yourself into the backseat and crossed your arms, mouth clenched in anger. 

  
“_Pussy_,” you thought, looking at Sam, “_I know damn well what Dean said._”

  
A few minutes passed and you saw Dean trying to inconspicuously glance at you in the rear view mirror. 

  
“Take a picture Winchester, it’ll last longer,” you practically snapped, infuriated by his attitude. 

  
“Hey, I’m just making sure none of your makeup wipes off on my car. It’s bad enough your perfume is gonna stink up Baby for who knows how long!” he shouted back towards you.

  
“Come on, this is supposed to be a fun night,” Sam pleaded. 

  
“Shut up, Sam!” you and Dean barked at the same time. 

  
Dean returned his focus to the road and you looked out the passenger side window for the rest of the ride, fighting back angry tears. 

  
Ten minutes later, you were pulling up to a bar, called, “Pooches”. You made your way to the entrance where the bouncer announced there was a five dollar cover charge. Dean paid and went in, leaving you and Sam outside. You scoffed and almost started to yell after him, but Sam patted your shoulder and gave the bouncer a ten dollar bill to cover the fee for the both of you. 

  
“Thanks Sam,” you said, making your way into the bar, “I don’t know what his problem is.”

  
“He’s having a moment. I know it’s not an excuse, but try to ignore him. He’ll come around.”

  
“Yeah, we’ll he better quit acting like an asshole because I may not be here when he gets back.”

  
The place was pretty packed, after all it was Friday night. There were a couple of pool tables, darts and a circular bar in the middle of the place with various tables and booths off to the side. A dance floor was in the back and you could hear “Whole Lotta Love” by Led Zeppelin coming out of the jukebox. Most of the crowd seemed like locals and there was a group of about 5 or 6 bikers in the back by the bathroom laughing loudly. By the look of the empty glasses on their table, you could tell they had been there a while. 

  
You looked, searching to see if Dean had managed to score a couple of seats at the bar or a table. Instead, you saw he was sitting at the bar alone, surrounded by strangers and was knocking back a shot of whiskey with two empty glasses already in front of him. Sam saw the pain in your eyes, “Hey, there’s a hightop over there, let’s snag it,” he said, trying to distract you.

  
  


You nodded your head and let him lead you to the table with his hand on the small of your back. Even though you knew Sam was gorgeous in his own way, with his flowing brown locks, broad shoulders and hazel puppy eyes, he had always given off more of a brother vibe, for you at least. If Dean had been leading you with his hand, you’re pretty sure you would be covered in goosebumps. Instead, you felt relaxed and comforted by Sam’s guidance. 

  
You unzipped your jacket and hung it on the back of your chair, immediately catching a few glances from nearby male bar patrons. You couldn’t help to look to see if Dean had noticed your top, but as soon as he saw you looking towards him, he turned his attention to the bartender, signaling for another shot. 

  
A busty, blonde waitress made her way over to you and Sam shortly thereafter to take your drink order. “I’ll just take a beer.” Sam said. You hesitated, once again frustrated that you didn’t have any money and you really hated to run up a bar tab on the boys credit cards. Sam could sense your hesitation. He reached over and patted your hand and you felt reassured by his touch, “Go ahead, get whatever you want, we’re celebrating our first night out together.”

  
“Thanks Sam. I’ll take a LIT and two Jäger bombs please.”

  
The waitress wrote down your order and headed back to the bar. 

  
“Damn girl, you’re not playing around. I would never have guess you’d order Jäger bombs. Think you’ll regret it in the morning?” Sam asked. 

  
You looked back over to Dean and saw that the same waitress that had taken your order was now leaning over and talking to him from behind the bar. Her breasts were laid out on the bar top and she was running her hand up and down his jawline while he played with her hair. “I don’t care what I feel in the morning. I just wanna numb this feeling in my chest right now.”

  
A few minutes passed in silence. Sam didn’t know exactly what to say to comfort you, so you waited for your drinks. The blonde bimbo eventually came trotting back with your order.

  
“Go ahead and keep the Jäger bombs coming,” you demanded as you quickly downed the two she sat on the table. 

  
“Ok, it’s your funeral dollface,” she replied before heading back to the bar. 

  
“_Bitch I will put you in your grave!_” your sexy inner voice cried out, nails sharpened and ready for a catfight. 

  
After a few more rounds of shots and a second LIT, you were starting to relax and the sharp stabbing pain in your chest was reduced to small pinpricks. You and Sam had finally been able to talk and he was happy to find out you were sort of a geek, like him. You were pleased to find out that he too, was a lot like the Sam Winchester you had come to know and love platonically.

  
“So, tell me Sam,” you asked while sipping on your third LIT, “What Hogwarts house would you think I belong to?”

  
“You? Hmmm, you give off a Ravenclaw vibe.”

  
You mimicked a buzzer, “Wrong! I am a proud Hufflepuff, duh!”

  
“Ok then, where do you think I belong?”

  
You pointed a finger into his chest, “Sam, you’re a Winchester. Of course, you’re a Gryffindor!”

  
“No, I think I’m a Ravenclaw too.”

  
You made another buzzer sound, “So, so wrong Sam. Do you think everyone belongs in Ravenclaw?”

  
Sam couldn’t help but laugh, “Hey, just giving you one mans opinion about our fictional houses.”

  
“So Sam, seriously, what is up with all of the rabbit food? I mean, I understand a salad every once in a while, but all the time?”

  
“You’re not gonna give me crap about my diet too now are you?” he asked, giving you the side eye. 

  
“No, I think it’s admirable that you have such restraint. But come on! With the hunter life, you never know when your last meal is gonna be. You gotta indulge a little.”

  
He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know, I just figure if something is going to take me out, I don’t want it to be a clogged artery.”

  
“That’s it, I am making it my mission to make you eat at least one greasy, unhealthy and cholesterol soaked meal a week. Can you give me that at least?” you asked, doing your best to give him the puppy dog look that he had perfected over the years. 

  
“Seriously?” He took in a deep breath and sighed, “Fine. ONE meal, but then you have to try one of my rabbit meals.” 

  
You grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously up and down, “Deal! So, is there anything that I didn’t cover when we were going over your history? Any personal traits or something I may not know about you?”

  
“There was one thing. You didn’t mention anything about my dad jokes, which I thought was strange because I love telling them.”

  
“You tell dad jokes? Sam, no you do not!”

  
He gave a little side smile, “Yeah, yeah I do.”

  
“Ok, well hit me! Whatcha got?” you asked in anticipation. 

  
“Ok, do you wanna hear a joke about construction?”

  
“Sure.”

  
“Well, you’re gonna have to wait. I’m still working in it,” he finished and made a ‘rimshot’ sound while pretending to play drums in the air. 

  
You rolled your eyes, “Sam . . . really?”

  
You had started something, because you could see the excitement in his eyes build as he began to tell another one, “Ok, uh . . . Did you hear why the scarecrow won an award?”

  
“Oh gosh, no.”

  
“It was because he was outstanding in his field!” he answered with another ‘rimshot’.

  
All you could do was shake your head. 

  
“Ok, one more, one more. I tell dad jokes, but I have no kids. Guess that makes me a . . . faux pa.” he said while wriggling his eyebrows and playfully elbowing you in your side. 

  
“Oh my gosh, I cannot believe you just said that. Wow, I don’t think I’ll be able to look at you the same ever again.”

  
He tucked his hair behind his ears, “Try not to think less of me for the jokes.”

  
“Ok, ok, I won’t.”

  
He wiped his hand across his forehead, “Good, that was a close one.”

  
“I’m glad to actually find out something new about you. It’s very refreshing and helps to round you out as a person,” you added. 

  
“Speaking of, you said you were a nurse, right?” Sam questioned. 

  
“Yep, I worked nights in a university ER for six years before coming here.”

  
“That’s impressive. What made you choose that?”

  
“You want the public story or the real one?” you asked. 

“Why not both?”

“Sam, you’re getting greedy now. I can’t give all my secrets away,” you teased, punching him playfully on his arm. “But, since you are paying for my drinks, I guess I owe you. So the public story is that I wanted to help people and I chose the ER because of the adrenaline rush and the fact that I’m able to help people on possibly one of the worst days of their lives. I can be the calm in their storm, make the situation better and maybe even help to save a life.”

  
Sam nodded, “Wow, it almost sounds like you’re a hunter.”

  
“Hmm, I guess it does a little bit,” you pondered. 

  
“So, you gonna tell me the real reason?”

  
You took a deep breath, “Honestly, it was you two.”

  
“Really?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. 

  
“Yeah, you guys inspired me to help people. I mean, I knew I couldn’t just go out and start hunting things, because well, I would be terrified to do something like that alone. Plus, like I said, they aren’t real in my world, as far as I know. So, I figured being a nurse would be pretty close to doing what the Winchesters do.”

  
“That’s really noble (Y/N),” Sam said, reaching over to place a hand on top of yours.

  
“Thanks. Maybe I can at least be of some help if you get hurt out on a hunt. Wait, who am I kidding? You guys probably know more about emergency medicine than I do at this point,” you said, hanging your head down in frustration. 

  
“(Y/N), I’m sure you can still show us a thing or two,” Sam responded, trying to console you. 

  
“I just . . . I’m so confused,” you confessed, effectively changing the subject, “I just . . . I just wish I had more answers about why I’m here and what I’m supposed to do. I know things usually have a way of working out for you guys, so I’m doing my best to try and stay calm and just roll with it, but it’s really frustrating,” you stated solemnly, sucking down the last bit of your drink. 

  
You had started to forget about the green eyed God who was now at a pool table, flushed up behind a brunette and ‘showing’ her how to shoot pool, when Sam asked, “Did Dean ever tell you what was in the letter?”

  
“Nope,” you said, downing your 6th shot and ordering your fourth LIT. 

  
“(Y/N), you sure you want another one.”

  
“Sam, normally I wouldn’t drink this much, really. But please,” you said nodding over to Dean before looking up to Sam, tears threatening to fall, “just let me be tonight.”

  
He tucked a hair behind your hair and gave you chaste kiss to your temple, “Ok, but if you get sloppy, I’m cutting you off.”

  
“Deal,” you replied as you sat there contemplating all the ways you could kill the brunette and get away with it. 

  
*****  
**DEAN’S POV**

  
The girl you had pulled from the dance floor to play pool with, was bent over in front of you, grinding her ass against your crotch as you leaned over her back and playfully showed her how to line up the cue. She shot and, of course, missed. 

  
“Darn, I guess you’re gonna have to keep showing me,” she said seductively turning around to wrap her arms around your neck. She tried to pull you for a kiss, but instead you moved your head and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. 

  
“Well, come on . . . ” you stuttered, trying to remember her name. “_Shit, was it Stacy, Tracy, Macy?_” Finally, you settled on, “. . . sugar, I’ve got all night. Hey, want another beer?”

  
“Thanks, that’d be great,” she said reaching around to grab your ass. 

  
You couldn’t get away from her fast enough. You made your way back to the bar and smiled at the blonde bartender, ordering two more shots of whiskey for yourself and two beers for you and “sugar”. You had quickly decided that you weren’t going to call her any nicknames you had bestowed upon (Y/N). 

  
While waiting for the drinks, you decided to glance over to spy on your brother and _her_. She was a little tipsy, but she didn’t seem sloppy at this point. You could tell she was upset you were flirting with other women in the bar, because every time you did make eye contact with her, you saw flames dancing in her irises. 

  
“_Good, maybe it’s working and she sees who I really am._”

  
You had noticed that she and Sam had gotten close, even catching when he gave her a kiss on her temple. You had wanted to stomp across the bar and knock your brother out, but you knew you were trying to push her away and didn’t want your jealousy to be evident. She took another shot of the dark liquor in her glass. She giggled and smacked Sam playfully in the chest at something he said and you couldn’t help but wish you were the reason for her laughter. 

  
Your gaze drifted down to her chest. Her breasts were heaving up and down as she continued to laugh and drink. That red top looked good on her, “_but I bet it’d look better on the floor in my room,_” you thought to yourself briefly before smacking the thought away. Her hair cascaded over her bare shoulders and those jeans were made for her ass. 

  
Her smile disappeared when she glanced over and saw you staring at her. Immediately her jaw clenched and she reached down for the other shot on the table and threw it back. “_Shit, she may not drink whiskey, but she can still put them away._” 

  
The bartender finally made her way back and you saw (Y/N) from the corner of her eye trying to get up from her chair, but stumbling a little. You gave Sammy a bitch face, “_What the hell, at least make sure she doesn’t get hurt._” Sam looked back at you knew he was thinking, “_Don’t blame me, this is all your fault._”

  
  


*****

** Reader’s POV **

  
You had been sitting since you started drinking, so you were surprised by your instability when you tried to stand to go to the bathroom. You had almost knocked the table over, but Sam was there to catch you, quickly wrapping his strong arms around your waist and offering support until you regained your balance. You tittered, “Thanks S-S-Sammy boy, my heroooooo. Wow . . . I had to put wayyyyyy too much focus into saying that. I think . . . I may finally . . . be drunk.”

  
Sam was still standing there with a grin on his face, holding you in his arms to make sure you didn’t fall over. “You are speaking a little slower than normal. What do you think about leaving?”

  
“No!” you said, pulling out of his grip. “I’m going to the bathroom and then I am gonna get my groooooove on,” you protested while shaking your hips. “Can I have a couple of dollars to play some music. Please?” you asked holding out your hand and giving him a pouty smile. 

  
“I’ll make you a deal. Bathroom, a few songs, then we go home. Deal?”

  
“Fine, party pooper.”

  
“Trust me, you’ve had quite the party.”

  
It was at that time that the waitress returned with two more shots. Before Sam could stop you, you grabbed them from her tray and threw them back, then bounced towards the bathroom. 

  
Sam looked over to see that Dean was back to flirting with the brunette at the pool table, leaving him to try and herd you out the door shortly. “_He is so going to owe me after tonight,_” Sam thought to himself. 

  
You made your way towards the back of the bar to use the bathroom. One of the straps of your top had fallen off your shoulder, but at this point, you didn’t give a shit. You passed by the gang of bikers and one gave an appreciative whistle, “Damn little lady, I’d like to get my hands on that ass.”

  
You knew you should ignore him, but you were pissed off, emboldened by the alcohol and kind of curious to see if you could make Dean jealous. You opened the bathroom door and before disappearing, you looked back to wink at the man who had catcalled at you, “Maybe you will.” As you disappeared all of his buddies yelled and jeered. Dean noticed the rowdiness, but he didn’t see that you had been the reason to get the bikers all worked up. 

  
In the bathroom, you relieved yourself and then washed your hands before taking a moment to survey yourself in the the mirror. The curls in your hair had almost lost their bounce, your lipstick was mussed from drinking and your eyeshadow and mascara were slightly smeared from laughing at Sam’s jokes. You had been having a good time getting to know Sam, but still, he wasn’t the Winchester that set your soul on fire. 

  
You took a deep breath and tried to fix your face, adding a fresh layer of lipstick before heading back out into the bar. The biker who had hit on you was still there and you caught his attention as you walked past him. He was taller than Dean, but shorter than Sam, physically fit and was sporting a full black beard. However, his outfit was the ultimate cliché. He had black leather boots, pants and a vest that was covering up a black shirt with a ‘Harley Davidson’ logo. 

  
You stumbled over to the brightly lit jukebox and slid the money in that Sam had graciously given you. You placed both your hands on the machine and tried to focus on the digital screen, but things were becoming blurry. You picked out a few songs you knew you could dance to, then you saw _it_. You quickly made your selections and made sure that this specific song would play first. 

  
The last song that another patron had paid for was finishing up, so it gave you enough time to turn around and find Dean. He was back at the bar with the brunette and she was all over him. One hand was running through the hair on the back of his head and the other was high on his thigh, stroking back and forth. She was kissing him along his jaw while he kicked back another shot. 

  
It was then that your song came on. You saw his body stiffen and he looked towards the jukebox as the piano started up and he heard those familiar words float through the air. 

_Take off those heals, lay on me bed_

_Whisper dirty secrets while I’m pulling on your hair_

The two of you made eye contact and you felt your bottom lip tremble. You tried to use your eyes to beg him to come to you. It looked like he was going to get up, but the skank that was sitting next to him grabbed his face and pulled his lips down onto hers. 

  
You closed your eyes and turned around, bumping into the biker. “Hey baby, wanna dance?” he asked grabbing your hands and pulling you to the dance floor. You could only nod, because you knew if you tried to speak you would cry. He placed his hands on your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting your head fall into his chest. You immediately wrinkled your nose in disgust as a strong smell of smoke invaded your senses. 

  
As the first chorus of the song finished, you felt his hands slide down to cup your ass and press you closer to him. He spread your legs and you felt him grind his hard on between your thighs. At this point, you were too numb to care what he was doing. 

  
“_So what if he wants to feel you up? Apparently no one else does._”

  
You felt his hot breath in your ear, “Wanna get out of here? I got a room at the motel next door.”

  
Before you could protest, you felt two strong hands pull you away from the biker’s grip and you found yourself being pushed into Sam’s chest. You were dizzy, but managed to turn around in time to see Dean in the face of the man you had just been dancing with. 

  
“Back off buddy, she’s not going anywhere with you!” Dean snarled.

  
The biker laughed as his friends approached behind him, offering backup. “Hey, she’s a big girl, she can make her own decisions. Besides, who the hell are you? What do you care if I score with her.”

  
Dean pushed his chest, “It doesn’t matter who I am. But you’ll be leaving here with her over my dead body.”

  
You tried to pull away from Sam to stand in between Dean and the biker, hoping to stop the impending fight, but he had your arms pinned against your side. 

  
The biker smiled, revealing several missing teeth. “_ICK!! How did I not see that?_” “I think my friends and I could arrange that.”

  
Dean smirked, “Oh, you need it to be one on six to have a fair fight, huh? You must be a soft little thing underneath all that hair and leather.”

  
The biker looked down, grinned tightly and then threw a punch at Dean. 

  
“DEAN!” you screamed.

  
But Dean had anticipated the biker’s move and ducked. Dean then punched him in the gut, causing him to double over as the wind was knocked out of him. This allowed Dean to bring his knee up to the biker’s face. You heard a sickening *_CRUNCH_* and saw blood start to flow freely from his nose as he fell to the floor. The rest of the biker’s friends quickly approached, forming a semi-circle around Dean. 

  
“Come on ladies,” he said tauntingly, hold up his hands in a ‘come here’ motion, “there’s still plenty of spots open on my dance card.”

Sam leaned down and whispered in your ear, “Go, get out of here! Meet us at the car!” before releasing you from his grip to step in and help his brother. One of the bikers had managed to sucker punch Dean, but Sam was there quickly, delivering an uppercut and sending him stumbling backwards to the jukebox and shattering the screen.

  
The whole place erupted in chaos and you were quickly carried away with the crowd. You managed to grab your jacket from your table as you were shoved out the door, sounds of fists hitting flesh, flying through the air. 

  
You made it to the car, threw on your jacket and zipped it up. You leaned against the Impala as the cold November air beat down on you. People continued to pour out of the bar and you felt pangs of guilt and anger. Eventually, anger turned into rage and you stomped away, not thinking about where you were going. 

  
You were still pretty drunk and in heels, so your pace was significantly slow as your boots *clicked* down the sidewalk. The sounds of fighting and screaming had disappeared once you made it two blocks away from the bar. Your thoughts swirled lazily in your alcohol soaked brain. You felt horrible knowing that Dean and Sam were definitely going to be hurting after getting into the fight. Even though they were experienced hunters and could definitely handle six measly humans, a fight is a fight. 

  
“_But, what the fuck! No one asked Dean to step in like that! It’s none of his business what you were doing or who you were doing it with! Why did he have to go put not only himself but Sam in danger?_” your inner self asked, fuming. Meanwhile, the other side of you was staring at you with a “_duh_” look splatted across her face. He had seemed to be pretty happy with the brunette at the bar, so it shouldn’t have mattered if you were dancing with a random stranger on the dance floor. 

  
A few more minutes passed and somewhere in your inebriated state you realized you had nowhere to go. However, that didn’t stop you from continuing on into the darkness. You were both relieved and ticked off when you heard the familiar roar of Baby pull up beside you. You were surprised to see Dean leaning out of the passenger window out of the corner of your eye. 

  
“(Y/N)! Get in the car now!” he yelled. 

  
“Fuck off Winchester,” you replied calmly, not even bothering to look at him. 

  
“Come on, we need to go, get in the car!”

  
“Why you riding shotgun Winchester? Drink too much? Maybe you should be more aware of your limits.”

  
“Damn it, come on, let’s go home.” 

  
“No!” you screamed, finally letting your rage flow through you, “You were doing a damn fine job of leaving me alone all night, so why pay any attention to me now? Go away!”

  
“Sam, stop the car!”

  
You heard the brakes screech and tried to pick up your pace as your heard a door open and close, but your feet were starting to hurt and you definitely weren’t walking in a straight line. You heard his boots stomping behind you and within a few seconds you felt Dean’s strong arms flipping you around to face him. You were momentarily caught off by his touch as it sent goosebumps up and down your body as this was the most contact you had with him in several hours.

  
He grabbed your hand and tried to pull you towards the car, but you fought back, pulling against him. 

  
“Damn it, (Y/N), stop fighting with me!”

  
“You started this! Just let me go.”

  
He flipped back around towards you and easily picked you up so you were over his shoulder. You tried to kick and loosen his grip, but he had your upper legs pinned against his chest. 

  
“Sam, get the door,” he ordered.

  
The spinning, yelling and sudden motion of him lifting you up off the gourd had made you sick to your stomach. You no longer had any will left to fight, so you just closed your eyes and curled up into a ball after Dean laid you gently down in the backseat. You heard the boys get back in the car, but you were too disoriented and exhausted at this point to pay attention to who was driving. The car started moving and you no longer had enough strength to hold back the ocean of tears you had been holding back since this afternoon. You fell asleep in Baby, weeping and whispering over and over, “I don’t know what I did. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Dean, you just had to go and be so . . . Dean, didn’t you?


	12. Jasmine or Elsa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean deal with the repercussions of last night’s events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the chapter! Again, comments make me giddy and I appreciate any feedback!
> 
> This will be probably be the last chapter for a few days since Thanksgiving is this week. But, I will hope to be back to writing in a few days. I’m so excited to continue to share my story with you!!!

***** 

**DEAN’s POV**

The nauseating smell of the brunette’s cheap, drug store perfume still lingered on your jacket as Sam pulled into the garage of the Men of Letters’ bunker. He pulled Baby into her usual spot and shifted into park. You both sat there quietly for a minute, processing the events of the evening. The knuckles on both of your hands were torn and bleeding, your right cheek was sporting a shiner and you had a small cut above your left eyebrow from getting shoved against the wall. However, none of that compared to the pressure that was sitting on your chest, caused by guilt from the pain you had inflicted on the woman sobbing quietly in her sleep in the backseat. 

  
You had prayed that flirting with other women and completely ignoring her would cause her to hate you. You hoped that it would lead her to beg you to find a way to send her home. But, when you heard _that_ song, the one you caught her dancing to in the kitchen that second morning in the bunker, and caught her looking at you with her hair tussled, lipstick still slightly smeared and desperation shining behind tears in her eyes, you had cracked. You were ready to march across that bar and back her up against the wall to claim her as yours, when the brunette had caught you off guard and pulled you in for a kiss. 

  
She tasted like cigarettes and stale beer, which normally wouldn’t have bothered you. Hell, typically you’d have just dragged her out of there, making out as you stumbled to your motel room and had a little “_wham bam and thank you ma’am_” before sending her back home. But now, you realized Sammy was right. You had been spoiled by a good woman. 

  
Sam had only taken one hit to the gut during the fight, but his hands were just as damaged as yours. You finally took a deep breath, “Thanks for the backup bro.”

  
“Yeah, no problem.” Sam sighed, “Dean . . .”

  
“I’m gonna stop you right there Sammy.”

  
“What are you doing?” he asked, gesturing to the back seat. 

  
You turned around to look at her and the pressure in your chest doubled. She was curled into a fetal position with makeup running down her face. Her hair was splayed out across the seat and the strands of hair that she was laying on were wet with her tears. You turned back to face the front before the tears burning behind your eyes made their way to the front. 

  
“I . . . I don’t know. I just wanna keep her safe. I feel like it’s my job to protect her and no matter what I do, I feel like I’m gonna fail her.”

  
“Dean, I know this is super weird, even for us! It’s not like she’s a hunter or a monster or someone we saved. She was literally delivered to our front doorstep from a different universe and even Cas says she’s here for a reason.”

  
“So?”

  
“So, I think you should quit fighting whatever you’re feeling for her and just roll with.”

  
Your eyebrows shot up, “Sam, you know that’s not my style. I’m just trying to be nice to the poor girl until we can get her home.”

  
“Ok yeah,” Sam responded sarcastically, “that’s why you’re constantly holding her hand or rubbing her shoulders or finding some other way to touch her.”

  
“What? I can’t be friendly? She must be terrified to be in our world. Hell, it still scares me sometimes.”

  
“So why did you start that fight tonight then? I would’ve stepped in if things got too far so you could’ve stayed with your pick of the night.”

  
You huffed, “Look, he was getting grabby and I just didn’t like some guy trying to take advantage of a drunk girl.”

  
“Sure Dean, tell yourself whatever you want. But look, I actually got to know her tonight and . . .”

  
“Oh yeah, I saw, you were getting to know her real well,” you replied, thinking about the way he got to kiss her temple and rub her hand while you were busy trying to erase her memory with shots of wild turkey. 

  
“Shut up Dean! I got to spend some time with her without you hanging off of her and I found out that she is actually a great girl. She’s funny, smart, a little nerdy like me and she doesn’t put up with your shit. Sure, I can appreciate how beautiful she is, but, I don’t know, she just feels like a little sister to me.”

  
You sat there, taking in Sam’s words. When you didn’t speak Sam continued, “I can see why you . . . enjoy spending time with her. But Dean,” you looked over the Sam when he didn’t immediately finish his sentence, “like I said, she feels like a little sister to me. So I swear to God, if you hurt her again, you will regret it.”

  
You wanted to yell and fight with Sam. “_Who the hell does he think he is, picking her over me?_” But another part of you was secretly happy that Sam only liked her as a sister and would be willing to fight to protect her; hell he already had done that tonight. So, instead of arguing with your bother, you simply nodded your head and said, “Ok, chick flick moment over. We’re good for another five years I think.”

  
Sam gave you a quick smile, “Deal. So, what are we gonna do about her? Do you wanna leave her in the car or . . . ?”

  
“Nah, I’ll take care of her.”

  
“Ok, well, I’m going to go get cleaned up and go to bed. See you in the morning.”

  
With that, Sam headed into the bunker. You got out of the car and went to the back to gently extract (Y/N) from the backseat. After some finagling, you were able to pull her out and slide her over your shoulder. You didn’t know if she was dreaming or had woken up a little bit, but you heard her whimper, “Dean, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” and you felt like someone had shoved a white hot poker your throat. You managed to rub her back and squeezed out, “Shhh, I got you princess.”

  
You carried her through the bunker and finally made it to her room where you tenderly laid her down on her bed. You slipped off her boots and saw that her toenails were painted pink and smiled, “_She really thinks she’s a princess,_” you mused to yourself. Next, you pulled off her jeans, covering her up once she was only in her black boyshorts. This was not the way you had fantasized about undressing her for the first time, so you tried to ogle her as little as possible. But you couldn’t help imagining her long legs wrapped around your waist, hips thrusting up to meet yours as you dragged your cock slowly in and out of hot center. You bit your lip and shook your head, trying to refocus on the task at hand. 

  
  


  
You went over to her dresser and found a black t-shirt that had a logo on it for some show called “_The Office_” and couldn’t help but to smile and affectionately utter, “Nerd,” aloud. You stripped off her tank top and once again, your mind ran wild. You pictured yourself pulling down the cups of her black bra and sucking on one nipple while massaging her other breast as she moaned your name. You wondered if you could make her come by just sucking and tweaking on her sweet, pink buds. She briefly stirred and that pulled you out of your fantasy. You slid the shirt gingerly over her head and pulled it down her chest. You unsnapped her bra and slid it down her shoulders and off of her arms. Then, you were able to put her arms through her shirt. 

  
You covered her up, placed a kiss on her forehead and went to get a few hangover presents to leave on her bedside table with instructions and left a small trash can on the side, just in case she needed to get sick in the middle of the night. You looked down at her once more, before turning off the lights, and hoped that you hand’t blown it with her. You begged to whoever was listening to your prayer that she would take pity on your dumbass and at least still want to be friends. 

  
Once you were satisfied she was tucked in for the night, you retired to your room to take care of yourself. Seeing her, albeit briefly, semi naked and fantasizing about her had left you with a hard on that you knew would keep you up all night if it wasn’t addressed. 

  
*****

**Reader’s POV**

  
You were awake, but you felt lifeless. “_Why Jäger? I know what it does to me? Why?_” you scolded yourself. You lay there, feeling the room spin, and a wave of nausea crashed down on you as you started to remember last night’s events. Suddenly, it was too much and you were leaning over the side of your bed. Somehow, there was a trash can there and you were able to get sick without making a mess on the floor. 

“_Thank Chuck for little miracles,_” you thought as you rolled onto your back. The last thing you remember was making a fool of yourself in the back of the Impala, crying and apologizing to Dean for you don’t know what. He’s the one that had gone from volcanic heat to an arctic freeze in the span of five minutes yesterday afternoon with no absolutely no explanation. Then, he got in a fight, “_Oh the fight!_” you suddenly recalled. You didn’t even know how badly he was hurt. 

  
Thinking about last night became too much of a chore, so you decided to focus on there here and now. You were thankful that you had somehow you had made it to your room and been placed in your bed. “_But wait, this is not what I was wearing last night and_,” you lifted up the covers, “_where the hell are my pants!?_” Surely it had to be one of the boys that changed you last night, but which one? You certainly didn’t expect Sam to do it, but you were definitely not ready for Dean to have seen you naked, especially if you were unconscious. 

  
“_Fucking Jäger. Never again. I swear this time._”

  
You looked over at the bedside table and, luckily, your phone had survived the night. You checked the time and saw it was nearly noon. But then, your noticed three items with sticky notes attached. There was a bottle of water with “_drink me_” attached, a banana directing you to “_eat me_” and two pills that had “acetaminophen” printed on them, sitting on a note that said “_swallow me_”. 

  
You smiled at the kind gesture and before you knew it, you had taken the Tylenol and were taking small bites of the banana. The little bit of food was definitely going to help settle your stomach. You spent ten minutes eating and nursing the bottle of water and you felt a small flicker of hope that you’d be able to make it out of bed today. 

  
You summoned all of your strength and you were finally able to get up and shower. You brushed your teeth and your put a little mousse in your hair before leaving it to air dry. You changed into some comfy pajama pants with snowmen on them, because there was no way you were going anywhere today and the first T-shirt you grabbed from your drawer, which happened to be one that said “_Heisenberg_” accompanied by a police sketch of Walter White. 

  
After slipping on some Hufflepuff house shoes, you made your way out of the bunker and towards the war room, hoping to find other signs of life. You wanted to thank Sam for being there for you last night and Dean . . . you didn’t really think you could speak to him, but you wanted to make sure he was all right. Thankfully, it was Sam who you ran into first. You saw him sitting in the library on his laptop drinking a cup of coffee. 

  
You made your way over and sat across from him. He smiled and offered you some of his coffee, “Well, you don’t look too bad. How’s the hangover?”

  
You took a sip of the coffee and almost spat it out when you realized it was void of any cream or sugar, but your need for caffeine was too great. “Just peachy. Next time I try to order Jäger, please stop me.”

  
“Will do,” Sam promised with a chuckle. 

  
You finally got a good look at him and saw his hands were reddened and bruised. “Geez,” you said reaching over to grab his hand, “Sam, I am so sorry. That shouldn’t have been your fight last night. Are you ok?”

  
He reached over and placed his other hand on top of yours and you almost cried when you saw that it was in worse shape, “Hunter, remember?” he answered. “Besides, I couldn’t let my idiot brother get the shit kicked out of him before we take down the British Men of Letters, right?”

  
“True, he does still serve a purpose, I guess,” you grinned at Sam, “But, I still can’t believe he actually started a bar fight last night. Well, yes I can, he’s Dean, but he didn’t need to do that. I was perfectly capable of fending off that guy if I wanted to. Plus, he seemed pretty happy with what or should I say _who_, he was doing. I knew from the show he was complicated, but actually seeing it up close, I just want to . . . I just wanna kick his ass.” 

  
“_And throw him down, rip off his clothes and have angry sex with him._”

  
“Welcome to my world. Still wanna stay here?” Sam asked. 

  
“Yeah, I’m not going anywhere. I don’t scare that easily.” You pulled your hand from Sam’s and leaned back into your chair to take another sip of coffee. “So, this is kind of awkward, but how did I get to my room last night? I remember falling asleep, well passing out is probably more accurate, in the back of Baby, but that’s it.”

  
Sam raised his eyebrows, “Baby?”

  
“Yeah? The Impala?”

  
“Is Dean making you call the car ‘Baby’?”

  
“Dean doesn’t _make_ me do anything. ‘Baby’ is her name Sam. Be respectful,” you scolded. 

  
“Wow, it’s actually crazy that you can be so much like Dean and so different at the same time,” Sam said in amazement. “Anyway, I asked Dean what he wanted to do about you and he said he’d take care of it. When I last saw you, you were still in the back of, uh Baby.”

  
You sighed, “Well, shit! So you mean, even though he was a completely rude, condescending, alpha male jerk last night, he’s the reason I slept in my bed and had water, Tylenol and a banana waiting for me when I woke up?”

  
Sam nodded, “Yep. Wait, he left all that stuff for you?”

  
“Yeah, it really helped this morning too. Ugh! Any idea where the asshole is at?”

  
“He came by about an hour ago, said he was gonna be in the garage.”

  
“Wonder what’s stressing him out,” you pondered aloud. 

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“Well, I’m pretty sure nothing is wrong with Baby, so if he’s out working in the garage, something has him upset. It’s a coping mechanism that I’ve seen him run to plenty of times over the years.”

  
“Yeah, he does tend to do that,” Sam confirmed. 

  
“He’s a complicated but simple man at the same time. Ok, I can do this,” you said, pepping yourself up. “Wish me luck Sam. Thanks for the caffeine boost.” With that, you slid the half drank cup of coffee back over to Sam and made your way to the garage. 

  
As you marched off to find Dean, Sam couldn’t help but think about how you had his brother pegged “_Dean is in so much more trouble than I thought._”

  
As you approached the garage, you tried to think of what you were going to say to Dean. You were pissed, concerned, thankful and still had a slight headache thanks to your hangover. As you got closer, you could hear music playing, which shouldn’t have surprised you, but it didn’t sound like Dean’s usual classic rock. You stood outside and pressed your ear against the door. You swore you heard “_White Christmas_” by Bing Crosby echoing through the garage. 

  
You opened the door and called out, “Dean, you in here?” Suddenly, you heard the music go from Christmas carols to static and finally land on “_Heat of the Moment_” by Asia; the irony wasn’t lost on you. You noticed that your car was pulled alongside the Impala, with both of their trunks facing towards you, but only the hood of your car was lifted. 

  
“What the hell?” you wondered aloud. You thought you saw movement and walked towards the front of the cars, approaching from the Impala’s side. As you came around the front, you noticed that he was elbow deep in your car’s engine. Not only that but, damn it, he was wearing your favorite flannel, the red and black checkered one that made him look like a lumberjack and had inspired one too many fantasies. 

  
“_Really? Of all days?_”

  
“Dean, what are you doing to my car?”

  
Without looking up, he answered, “Well, you seemed hellbent on leaving last night, so I’m just making sure the princess’ carriage won’t turn into a pumpkin after midnight.”  


You were both insulted and appreciative of his gesture. “So, you’re sending me away huh?”

  
“No, you said you wanted to go last night. So, I’m just making sure when you do go, you won’t be calling us for help later, because you’re stranded on the side of the road. Even if you can’t return to your world, you can at least get as far away from here as you could possibly want,” he stated, shutting your hood.

  
“Damn it, Dean! Do you have my keys?”

  
“They’re in the front seat.”

  
“Good, move out of the way!” you yelled as he stepped back to stand in front of Baby. You stormed over angrily to climb into the front seat, trying to look as fierce as you could in your pajamas and house shoes. You turned over the ignition, put your car in gear and drove forward an inch before turning it off and climbing back out of the car. “Do you see that Winchester?! That’s as far as I wanna go!” 

  
You looked over to Dean and saw him staring impassively at you and you were finally able to get a good look at his face. Your anger immediately dissipated and tears welled up in your eyes as you made your way slowly over to him, “Oh my gosh, are you ok?” you asked, reaching up to instinctively cup his chin so you could better examine his wounds. He snatched your wrist and you noticed the reddened and bruised knuckles on his hand that he had earned from last night’s fisticuffs. 

  
“It’s no big deal. I’m fine. I’m not as delicate as you princess,” he scoffed. 

  
“Dean,” you said with an exasperated sigh, fury building up inside of you again, “You didn’t have to do that, you know. I’m a grown woman and if I want a man to take his hands off of me, I’ll be the one to tell him. Besides, it looked like you had your hands full yourself.”

  
“Whatever,” he said nonchalantly.

  
“Whatever, whatever,” you said mocking his deep voice as you you threw you hands up and walked towards the back of the Impala. You had to put distance between you and him or were scared you were really going to hit him. “So what, you can flirt with me all day long and then go find an easy lay at the bar, but if I wanna dance with a random guy and let him grind up against me, I can’t?” you yelled, leaning against Baby’s trunk. 

  
“No, you can’t!” Dean yelled back. 

  
“Who the fuck are you to tell me what I can and can’t do Winchester?!”

  
“I’m your. . . !” Dean was so frustrated that he almost said it. Even though he still wasn’t sure if he believed it, he almost said he was your soulmate. Instead, he made his way to the back of the Impala to face you and said, “I’m nobody to tell you what to do. I just didn’t want him to take advantage of you because you had too much to drink.”

  
Dean had you backed up against the trunk, but this time, you weren’t afraid of being stuck between him and an immovable object. You looked in his eyes with focused rage, “Look here Winchester, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours. I don’t know what snapped in you yesterday afternoon, but I thought we were having a fun time with our little back and forth banter. If I did something to piss you off, I’m sorry. However, that is no excuse for the moronic way you behaved and the disrespectful way you treated me last night!”

  
“Hey, I carried your drunk ass all the way . . .” Dean started to argue, but he was cut off when you started speaking again. 

  
“Did I say I was finished Winchester?” you asked rhetorically. You took a deep breath and hung your head down, unable to look at his face as you gathered enough strength to say your next words. “You’re giving me emotional whiplash Dean. One moment you’re hot and finding little ways to touch my shoulder or rub my leg and then last night, you’re distant and kissing another woman in front of me. If you were only flirting with me to try and placate me until you could send me home or get in my pants for one night, just tell me now and quit messing with my head,” your last few words coming out as a plea. 

You felt his hands come around behind your thighs and suddenly he was lifting you up so you were sitting on top of Baby’s trunk. You heard him utter, “That’s not why I’ve been flirting with you.” He moved forward and spread your legs so he could stand between them. You suddenly caught a whiff of his scent, that heady mix of whiskey, gunpowder and cinnamon. But today, it was accompanied by a faint hint of motor oil and it was absolutely intoxicating. 

  
You felt tears start to pool in your eyes and you didn’t have the strength to keep your thoughts locked away. Tears began to fall down your face as you unintentionally bared your soul, “Then, damn it, Dean, you can’t pull another stunt like last night. I have no idea what that was about or why you were trying to, I don’t know, make me jealous? I was caught off guard just as much as you when I woke up here. I was thrilled to meet you, but I tried to keep my cool, because I knew that you could be totally different from the Dean Winchester I have come to know and care so deeply about. Even though it’s only been a few days, I see that you are the exact same man I’ve watched go through so much and ask for so little over the last decade. But just because you are the most gorgeous, the most selfless, protective, caring, sexiest and lovable goofball of a man that I’ve ever met, does not mean I will allow you to walk all over me. I deserve more than that.”

  
He cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him for the first time since he set you on top of Baby’s trunk. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was biting his lower lip. You could see, what you’d describe as pain and curiosity in his eyes as he used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that had not only poured from your eyes, but from your heart as well. 

  
“Do you really think that about me?” he asked. 

“Yes! Oh Dean, I wish you could see you like I see you,” you answered, reaching your right hand up to place it over his left hand, careful to avoid his tender knuckles, “Look Dean, you gotta . . . you gotta pick a side, because it hurts too much to have you coming on to me one minute and then giving me the cold shoulder the next; it’s absolutely soul crushing. You either, I don’t know, you either have to be like. . . like,” you were struggling for a metaphor to give him, “like Elsa and let me go or like Jasmine and take a chance on a whole new world on an unknown journey with me. With us.” 

He couldn’t help himself as a he let out a roaring laugh at what you just said and it helped to slightly lighten the mood. You knew it was a silly comparison, but your brain was fried so you had blurted out the first thing you thought of. 

  
“Sweetheart, did you seriously just compare me to Disney princesses?” he asked, as his right hand traced down your face so he could run his thumb along your bottom lip, just like he had done in the kitchen yesterday morning. 

  
“Hey, it’s my comfort zone ok,” you said with a hint of a smile on your face. “Listen Dean, if you want to start something with me, its going to have to be more than a one night stand.” Tears started to flow from your eyes again as you continued, “But I know commitment isn’t your thing and I accept that. I know how terrified you are deep down of getting close to someone and then losing them, because that’s what always happens to you.” 

  
You took a deep breath and reached to place your left hand on his chest, over his heart, “Dean, you lock away your heart to protect it from getting hurt. But, by doing so, you’re also stopping yourself from so many other incredible experiences. So if you’re not ready to open up to me, I will understand. But then, you have tell me here and now and, I don’t know how, but I will find a way to let you go and not make you feel guilty about your decision.”

  
He closed his eyes, cocked his head to the side and took several deep breaths. 

  
A few more tears escaped your eyes as you mumbled, “Dean, it’s ok. I promise I’ll be ok if this is too much for you right now. You can let me go.”

  
He opened his eyes and all you could see was a minuscule ring of dark green around his black pupils. He licked his lips, “Never gonna happen.”

  
With that, he lifted your face up to his and laid a firm, but gentle kiss on your lips. You felt an electric shock emanate from inside your chest and radiate outwards, heightening all of your senses. You instinctively grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and wrapped your legs around the back his upper thighs. His lips were soft, slightly chapped and melded perfectly against yours. 

  
He pulled back to stare at you for a brief moment and you couldn’t stop from letting out a small whine in your throat when he broke contact. Your heart was beating so fast, you could feel it in your ears. Then, his lips were back on yours, more forceful than the first time. His lips moved against yours like he was dying of thirst and your lips were made of water. It was a soul searing kiss and you swear time stopped. He moved one hand behind your back to press you closer to him and with the other he was grabbing a fistful of your hair to deepen the kiss. You moaned against his mouth when he slightly tugged at your hair. 

  
He licked your bottom lip, searching for entrance into your mouth, which you happily gave him. You parted your lips, but his tongue skimmed across your bottom lip several times before finally slipping in. He tasted like mint and whiskey and while you normally didn’t like either of these flavors, having the combination delivered by his mouth made it fucking delicious. The velvet touch of his tongue had you yearning for more. More of his kiss, more of his touch, more of his scent . . . just more of _Dean_. You released his shirt so you could wrap your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through the hair on the back of his head and forcefully pulling him deeper into your mouth. 

  
When he finally pulled back from the kiss, you were both breathless, chests heaving and eyelids drooping heavily. You bit your lower lip and smiled at him. He leaned back down softly and placed his lips against yours. He gently bit your lower lip before moving his focus down to place open mouthed kisses along your neck, pulling your head back by your hair to give him better access. He savored every little moan and whimper that escaped from your mouth. As he worked his magic with those sinful lips, you could feel sweet little burns against your skin from his stubble. 

  
In your head, a puzzle piece fell into place and any lingering doubts you had about him being the one you could trust and open up to, faded away. You felt like you were home. A deep moan escaped your mouth as he found a sweet spot at the junction where your neck met your collarbone. When he heard you, he smirked against your skin and sucked forcefully on the spot, sending tingles straight to your core, leaving a hickey and marking you as his.

“Dean,” you moaned breathlessly as you pulled his hair to force his mouth up to yours. Before you pulled him into another kiss, he got a look at your eyes. They were feral and burning with desire for him. You could feel the bulge in his jeans rubbing against your thigh as your tongues started to dance once again, battling for dominance, and the world faded away until there was only you and Dean. Now that you had started kissing him, you had no idea how you would ever stop. 

  
A loud cough from across the room pulled you both back to reality. 

  
You pulled your lips away and rested your forehead against his, eyes still closed as you both tried to catch your breath. When you opened your eyes, he was already staring at you, absolutely wrecked. You gave him a small smile and he brought his hands up to cup your face again, planting a quick, tender kiss on your lips before asking, “Does this mean I have to go out and buy a magic carpet now?” All of the blood had left your brain and was much further south at this point, so you just giggled and shook your head.

  
“Guys?” Sam called from the garage door. 

  
Dean rolled his eyes and turned his head, dropping his hands down to rest on your waist, “Yeah Sammy, we heard you. What? You need a cough drop or something?”

  
“I’m really, really sorry to interrupt, but, it’s Asa. Jody called and said that he’s heard rumors that Jael is back. He needs our help now.”

  
“Of course he does,” Dean snapped. “All right, we’ll leave here in an hour.

As Sam left to go pack, Dean dropped his head forward so your foreheads were touching again. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered at the same time you uttered, “Fuckarooni,” causing you both to chuckle. 

  
“We’re gonna have to put a bell on Sam if we want to avoid being caught indisposed,” you suggested. 

  
“Let him catch us, I don’t care,” Dean replied softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and kissing the tip of your nose. He took a deep breath, “You’re gonna wanna come with us aren’t you?” he asked disappointingly.

  
“Yep.”

  
“And if I say no?”

  
You responded calmly, “Winchester, first of all, I am not asking you for permission. Second, if you leave here and don’t take me, don’t expect me to be here waiting for you when you get back.”

  
“Damn woman,” he chuckled and a smile spread across his face, “are you ever not gonna fight with me about something?” 

  
“I’ll let you pick the music in the car,” you teased before reaching up to grab his flannel by the collar and pulling him in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH all the feels! I loved writing this chapter so much! They finally kissed!
> 
> I have to admit, some of my writing for this chapter was inspired by another song. It’s a song from my younger years 😂. It’s called, “Kissin’ U” by Miranda Cosgrove. If you would like to listen to it, here’s the link. 
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=nhT_6Yz-Nbc


	13. Oh, Canada!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the Winchesters head out on the roads to Canada, allowing your bond with Dean to develop even further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone in the US had a great Thanksgiving and weekend! My muse and I were busy working on the next four chapters. I like the idea of posting multiple chapters at once if they form a sort of “episode”. Hope you enjoy!

*****

**Reader’s POV**

Your back was shoved up against your bedroom door and your wrists were pinned above your head by the hand of one of the most dangerous hunters in the world, but you couldn’t have felt safer. Dean was laying gentle kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle with happiness. He kissed the corner of your eyes, across your forehead, down your cheeks and along your jawline. He titled your head to the side with his cheek and gently bit your earlobe. 

  
“Dean, I have to pack,” you weakly protested, not really wanting him to let you go. 

  
It had been half an hour since your fist kiss and, besides a brief interruption from Sam, the two of you had been locked at the lips. You had continued your make out session through the garage, down the hallways of the bunker and now, in front of your bedroom door for the past ten minutes.

“But see,” he said before turning his attention to your other ear, “If you stay here, then we can continue to do this until I leave.” As he finished speaking, he reached up his free hand to squeeze your right breast over your shirt. You couldn’t help but to mew at the touch and you felt him smirk as his lips began to make his way down you neck again, continuing to cherish you with soft kisses. 

  
“Dean,” you groaned, “you are not going to be able to distract me this way forever. I am going with you to Canada. End of story.”

  
He released your wrists and let out a small growl before pulling away to look you in the eyes. “You really aren’t prepared for this, you know. I mean, I haven’t even assessed your fighting skills, your shooting abilities or got you any fake IDs. You’ve never hunted in your life and the first battle you want to go running into is with a crossroads demon. I think you may seriously be suicidal or delusional about your abilities.”

  
“I know,” you answered in defeat, looking down at the floor. 

  
“So come on, stay here. Decorate the bunker and let me and Sammy go handle the boogey man,” he pleaded, reaching around to cup two handfuls of your ass. 

  
You thought about his proposal for a few seconds. “_Am I seriously about to go hunt a demon with absolutely no experience. It’s not like I know what is going to happen since we’re going off script for the moment._” 

  
Fear of the unknown started to make you doubt your resolute decision about going with the Winchesters to help Asa Fox. Then, you had an idea. You looked back up towards Dean, “I tell you what,” you started to say while reaching up to rest your hands on his biceps, “What if I go with you, but I stay out of the action unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  
“Hmmmm,” Dean thought, pursing his lips, “you think you’d be able to do that. Go and not get involved in the action?”

  
You squeezed his arms and winked, “Well, not the demon action.”

  
“I’m surprised that you’d be willing to do that.”

  
“It’s called compromise Dean,” you said as you reached one hand up to run through his hair, “Things don’t have to be all my way or your way, we can find a middle ground and meet each other halfway. Besides, like you said, I have absolutely no experience and, while I want to help, I also don’t want to be a distraction when things get serious.”

  
“You continue to surprise me doll,” he said in wonder. 

  
“Hey, told you I wasn’t boring.”

  
“That’s true, you sure did,” he said, leaning in to give you a slow, deep kiss. 

  
Before things could get hot and heavy again, you gently pushed against his chest and turned around to open your door, “Dean, I really do need to pack. You do too.”

  
“Babe,” he stated, following you into your bedroom, “I keep a duffel packed for situations like this. I can be gone in five minutes if need be.”

  
“Then why did you tell Sam you’d leave in an hour?” you asked, walking over to the dresser to look around for a bag to put your own things in. 

  
“Because, I wasn’t done with you yet,” he responded, coming up behind you and moving your hair to lay an open mouthed kiss on your shoulder.

  
You shivered and gave him an appreciative moan, “Yeah, OK. That was a good excuse.” When he lifted his lips away from you skin, you spoke, “Dean, I really want to continue this, but I really have to pack, unless you want me to wear the same clothes every day or go naked in Canada.” You quickly spun around and placed a finger over his lips, “Don’t answer that. I know what you’ll say.”

  
He gave you a devious smile, “Nah, can’t have you running around in your birthday suit up there. You might attract a Canadian Mountie that would wanna go bareback riding with you.”

  
You bit your lip, considering the double entendre of his words, before speaking, “And you call me a tease.”

  
“Apparently I gotta step up my game with you princess,” he said, leaning in for another kiss. 

  
You let him give you several sweet kisses before pulling away. You smiled. “Ok, I have to pack now, for real. And, it doesn’t look like I have a bag. Think you can scrounge up an extra one for me?”

  
“Sure thing. Let me go grab one from my room,” he said before kissing you on the forehead, “be right back.”

  
With a wink, he sauntered out your door towards his room to fetch you a bag. You took a deep breath, walked over to sit on the edge of your bed and began to process the infinite number of thoughts that were bubbling up from inside of you, now that you could think clearly. The confident inner voice was the first one to speak up, well yell, would be more accurate, “_GIRRRRRLLL!!!! You just made out with Dean Winchester! He wants something more with you! I . . . . Oh . . . . He . . . Mmmmm_,” but she had no more words to describe just how giddy you were feeling. 

  
You reached up to feel your slightly swollen lips and ran your hand down your neck, trying to soothe the burning where his rough scruff had scraped across your skin. “_Totally worth it_,” you thought to yourself.   


It dawned on you that you were still in pajama pants, so you headed back to your dresser to pull out a pair of jeans and some socks so you could change. You also picked out a few other pieces of clothing to pack. It was at that moment that you started to hear the more rational side of you clearing her throat, “_Ahem! Excuse me darling. While, I too am thrilled with what has transpired this last hour, we really need to get to the bottom of things. After all, he was a jackass last night. He was an utter and complete asshole in the car after your shopping trip and at dinner. Then, he hit on two different women at the bar. Girl, we need answers if you want to have a shot at something real with him._”

  
You rolled your eyes, “_Damn it, it’s true._”

  
Dean came lazily strolling back in, tossing a simple black duffel bag on your bed and smirking, “Here you go doll. You better hurry up and quit procrastinating. Sammy said he’s leaving in ten minutes with or without us.”

  
“Did you tell him you were the reason we were taking so long?” you asked as he approached you to wrap his arms around your waist. 

  
“Nope, totally threw you under the bus.” 

  
He was leaning down for another kiss, but instead, you gently pushed at his chest and said, “Dean, sit on the bed.”

  
“Hmmm, I don’t know where you’re going with this, but I like it,” Dean said, releasing you and sitting on the bed, expectation in his eyes. 

  
“Dean, we really need to talk about last night and the way that you acted,” you stated, moving around the room and gathering the rest of your things to pack. 

  
He groaned, “Nah, I think we’re good.”

  
“Dean, I know you don’t do ‘chick flick’ moments and I don’t expect you to give long rambling speeches about what’s going on in that head of yours, like I did earlier.”

  
“Yeah, that doesn’t happen,”

  
“So, let me just ask you two questions and we can move on. All you have to do is answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Sound simple enough?” you queried, putting the last of your things into the bag. 

  
“Ok,” he answered slowly. 

  
You were standing a few feet away from him, arms crossed. You wanted to ask your questions without your physical touch influencing his answers. “Ok, first of all, did I do something to make you angry yesterday?”

  
“No, no you didn’t. I had a lot of fun with yesterday morning,” he answered quickly. 

  
“Me too,” you added with a small smile. “Dean, if anything ever does happen that makes you angry or upset, you’re gonna have to try and tell me. I know it’d be much easier to read your mind, but I can’t do that. So, every once in a while, you’re gonna have to peek over that emotional wall of yours and tell me when something is wrong. Think you can do that?”

  
He took a deep breath, “I’ll try.”

  
“I can live with that. Ok, secondly, at the bar last night . . . . ,” you started.

  
He interrupted, “Look, that was . . . I . . . ,” but you could see he was struggling. 

  
“Hey, look at me,” you ordered. He looked up intensely at you and it was almost as if he was staring into your soul. It startled you briefly, but then you continued, “I just want to know this. If you could go back and change the way you acted last night, would you?”

  
“Yes,” he answered with absolute certainty. 

  
You walked over to him, grabbed his hands and pulled him into a standing position before wrapping your arms around his middle. “Good enough for me. I would tell you not to be a jackass again, but that would be a losing battle.”

  
“Yeah, it is sweetheart,” he said before reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ears. 

  
“See now that wasn’t so bad was it? Not too painful?”

  
He chuckled, “I don’t know, I feel kind of dirty after all that girly talk. Hope I don’t grow a vagina.”

  
You smacked him on the arm playfully and winked, “Me either. I like you just the way you are.”

  
You heard Sam yell, “Guys, come on! We gotta hit the road!”

  
You looked up to Dean, excitement temporarily outweighing your fear. You practically squealed when you said, “Ok Dean Winchester, let’s go on our first hunting trip together!”

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“Well, aren’t you a gentleman?” she said after you had offered to carry her bag to the Impala. 

  
“Yeah, well I just don’t want to you to break a nail, princess,” you responded playfully. 

  
“Hush it,” she replied before gently punching you in the arm. 

  
The two of you exited her room and she slid her hand into your free one. Now, the two of you were leisurely making your way to the garage to start the twelve hour drive to Emerson, Manitoba in Canada. 

  
“Hey, I never got a chance to thank you for my gifts you left for me this morning,” she noted while rubbing her thumb back and forth across your hand. “Dean, it really helped me. Now, don’t get me wrong, the Jäger still has me feeling like a dirty, washed up rag that’s been tossed to the side, but at least I’m able to walk and speak coherently.”

  
“Jäger?” you asked incredulously, “You mean to tell me that you don’t like to drink whiskey, but you’re willing to poison your body with that German sewage water?”

  
“To each their own I guess,” she replied shrugging her shoulders. “It definitely gets the job done, but I always seem to block out the gargantuan hangover I have the next day. Ergo, my thanks for the water, medicine and snack this morning.”

  
“You’re welcome, it was really no big deal.”

  
“Dean,” she said holding your hand so you had to stop walking and turn to look at her, “It was a big deal. We were in the middle of a fight and you still took the time to make sure I’d be OK this morning. It really was a big deal and I appreciate it greatly. Learn how to take a compliment jackass,” she added with a wink before leaning up to place a kiss on your cheek that sent warmth radiating through you. All you could manage to do was nod and then the two of you continued on towards the garage. 

  
“So,” she inquired slowly, “I guess you were the one that changed my clothes last night too?”

  
You glanced sideways toward her, “Yeah, figured you wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping in what you had on last night.”

  
“Mmmm-hmmm, was that really the reason?” she asked skeptically. 

  
“Yes. Now, don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed a little sneak preview. But, babe, the next time I get to undress you, I want you to be conscious and alert for me. Necrophilia isn’t my thing.”

  
“Next time you undress me? Getting a little cocky there aren’t you?” she said grinning.

  
By this time, you had made it to the garage door. You caught her off guard and flipped her around so you had her pinned against the door. You flushed your body up against hers and reveled in the surprised look on her face. She was staring up at you, wide eyed like a mouse that had just been caught in a trap, mouth slightly parted. Leaning in so that your lips were just an inch from hers, you whispered, “That’s right princess. Now, the next time might not be today or tomorrow. But one day I am going to undress you so slowly and gently that you’ll be begging me to just rip off your clothes and take you.”

  
She had closed her eyes and her breathing sped up as you spoke to her. She had her mouth puckered up in expectation of a kiss. When it never came, she opened her eyes to see you staring at her with a shit eating grin. She shook her head and straightened up before answering confidently, “Challenged accepted, Mr. Winchester.”

  
When you finally entered the garage, she apologized to Sam, who was leaning against the passenger door, for taking so long to get ready. You shrugged your shoulders at him and stated, “I regret nothing,” causing him to roll his eyes back at you. You loaded up the trunk and headed out for the open road with your favorite Led Zeppelin cassette playing in the background. It was already going on three o’clock in the afternoon and you were hoping to make it to Canada by the middle of the night. Sam was riding shotgun and she was sprawled out in the backseat, with her back against the passenger side window. A few minutes after you had hit the interstate, she had pulled out her headphones from her purse and slipped them on over her ears. 

  
  


  
“Hey, where do you think you’re disappearing to back there?” you asked.

  
She slid the headphones down to sit around her neck, “Dean, I love how passionate you are about your musical choices, but if I listen to it for twelve hours, I will end up going insane.”

  
“Lady, do I need to remind you that you said you’d let me pick the music?” you asked. 

  
Sam looked to you with an inquisitive look on his face, “_She_ was going to _let you_ pick the music? Like there’s any other choice?”

  
You heard her chuckle and you replied, “Shut it, Sam.”

  
She sat up and scooted across the seat until she was directly behind you. She leaned forward and whispered seductively in your ear, “Just because you get to pick the music, doesn’t mean I have to listen to it,” before planting a kiss on your earlobe. “Besides, I am still wore out from last night and was hoping to take a little nap.”

  
“Sure, why not. We’ll wake you if we stop for dinner or hear anything more from Asa,” you answered. 

  
“Thanks Dean,” she responded before giving your shoulders a squeeze, assuming her previous position in the backseat and placing her headphones back on.

  
Another fifteen minutes passed uneventfully before you peaked in the rear view mirror and chuckled. She had fallen asleep and was now softly snoring with her head slumped down against her shoulder, mouth wide open. “_How does she make that look so damn cute?_” you pondered to yourself. 

  
“I am so relieved you two literally kissed and made up,” Sam commented, interrupting your thoughts. 

  
“_Oh gosh, not another talk. I am so done discussing this. Why can’t we just move on without talking it out._”

  
When you just nodded, Sam continued, “I mean, I know how stubborn you can be, but damn, she may be worse.”

  
You gave him a side smile but remained silent. 

  
“Dean, you may be in over your head with her.” Sam warned. 

  
You looked at her again in the mirror and finally spoke, “Well, if I end up drowning, maybe she’ll give me mouth to mouth.”

  
Sam rolled his eyes and said with relief, “And _there_ he is. Thought you were going soft on me for a second.”

  
“Me? Sammy, come on! Never!” you protested, but deep down, you felt a block of your emotional brick wall crumble and fall to the ground.

  
*****   
**Reader’s POV**

  
You weren’t sure how long you had been sleeping, but when you were awoken by Sam gently shaking your shoulder from the front seat, it was already dark outside. 

  
“Hey (Y/N), wake up,” he said. 

  
You grumbled, “Just give me five more minutes.”

  
Dean spoke from the driver’s seat, “Come on sleeping beauty. We’re stopping for gas again in a few minutes and we’re gonna grab some dinner.”

  
“How long was I asleep?” you asked, sitting up to stretch out your muscles as best as you could. 

  
“Long enough for Dean here to run through two tanks of gas. He tried to wake you at the first pit stop, but you told him to let you sleep or he’d regret it,” Sam answered.

  
You gasped, “No I did not!”

  
“Yeah, you kinda did princess. You must get crabby without any sleep,” Dean added. 

  
You hung your head down in shame and shook it back and forth, “Wow, I am so sorry.”

  
“It’s ok, I’m sure you can make it up to me somehow,” he said suggestively. 

  
Shortly thereafter, you pulled into a “Gas-N-Sip” that happened to have “Lucy’s Diner” right next to it. You excused yourself to use the bathroom and when you came out the boys had been seated at a booth and were sitting opposite of one another. Dean slid out of his side to allow you to sit on the inside. He slid his arm around you and the waitress soon appeared. She looked to be in her fifties with short brown hair and was very cheery. 

  
“So, what can I get you all tonight?” she asked.

  
“I’ll take chicken caesar salad and water please,” Sam answered. 

  
“I’ll take the bacon cheeseburger. Fries. Coffee black. Oh and what kind of pie do you have?” Dean asked. 

  
“Well darling, tonight we have apple, blueberry and chocolate,” the waitress answered with a big smile. 

  
“I’ll take apple,” he answered giving you a wink. 

  
“Dean, you are so predictable,” you uttered before placing your own order. “You know what, I will actually have the same, but can I please get a slice of chocolate pie instead and water with lemon?”

  
“Sure thing honey,” the waitress replied before taking your menus and heading off to put in your orders.”

  
That’s when Dean let out a big groan, “You’re not one of those people that order water with lemon to try and make lemonade are you? That’s so annoying.”

  
“Hey,” you responded defensively, “No, I am not _that_ person. They give people like me a bad name. I just genuinely like the taste of lemon water. If I wanted lemonade, I’d order lemonade. I can’t stand people like that. Just pay the couple of extra dollars and get what you want.”

  
Sam was sitting there chuckling and Dean squeezed your shoulder, “Good answer. But still, it’s vegetable water and I don’t know how I feel about that.”

  
“Well, you’re not the one drinking it, so mind ya business,” you replied before blowing him a raspberry, causing him to roll his eyes and smile. 

  
The rest of the meal passed pretty uneventfully with the three of you making idle chit chat. During dessert, you and Dean took turns taking bites of each other’s pies, earning a groan of disgust from Sam. 

“Is this how it’s always going to be with you two from now on?” Sam complained. 

  
Dean just gave him a bitch face while you put a bite of chocolate pie on your fork and pushed it towards Sam’s face, “Awww, are you feeling left out Sam? Do you want a bite of pie too,” you taunted. 

  
Before Sam could answer, Dean had reached out a hand and pulled the bite into his mouth. After he swallowed the pie, he quirked an eyebrow and teased, “Sweetheart, I better be the only that gets to taste your pie.”

  
“Ugh, seriously Dean? I don’t wanna hear that,” Sam whined. “Come on (Y/N), can’t you make him stop?”

  
You looked to Dean who was giving you a knee weakening smile before answering, “Sorry, Sam I don’t think I want to.”

  
Dean slapped the table victoriously and declared, “Ha ha, Sammy, looks like it’s two to one,” before reaching his other hand up to grab your chin and pull you in for a kiss. 

  
Soon enough you three were back on the road. Sometimes it was silent as you all just sat and enjoyed the peace and quiet of the night air or Dean’s latest cassette pick. Other times you all talked and got to know each other a little bit more. For example, you found out that Sam loved to go hiking and often had Dean spend an extra day or two in a motel if they were near a national park or popular hiking trail. You and Dean managed to bond even further over your love of horror films. 

  
“Really? My dainty princess loves horror flicks?” Dean asked in disbelief. 

  
“Oh hell yeah! Freddy, Jason, Michael Myers, Jigsaw and especially Chucky. Give me a scary movie or psychological thriller and a big bucket of popcorn any day of the week!” you said with zeal. 

  
“Hold up. I draw the line at Chucky,” Dean said soberly while Sam started laughing.

  
“Seriously Dean? You have faced Lucifer and leviathans and you’re gonna let a ‘Good Guy Doll’ give you the heebie jeebies? Why?” you prodded. 

  
“I don’t know, it’s just . . . Ever since that one case, the one with the fountain that made anyone’s wish come true if they threw in a coin, did you happen to see that one?”

  
“Oh yeah, I saw it. ‘Kneel before Todd!!!!’” you said mockingly while throwing your hands up in the air. 

  
“Yeah, that kid was definitely on a power trip. Anyway, after we saw that little girl’s bear and how suicidal it got contemplating its existence, the idea of any talking doll or animal just . . . Nope!” he finished explaining while shivering his shoulders. 

  
“Dean Winchester, scared of a little doll. And you have the nerve to call me ‘delicate’ and ‘princess’,” you mocked. 

  
“Hey, why don’t you ask Sam what he’s afraid of. It’s worse than me,” Dean added, trying to change the subject and deflect the attention away from him. 

  
“Oh, I know what Sam is afraid of. Clowns. I bet you’d lose your shit if Pennywise came knocking on your door.”

  
Sam spoke, “Yeah, so what. Clowns are creepy. Grown ass men putting on makeup and giving balloons and treats to kids, that’s just wrong.”

  
“Bless your hearts,” you stated shaking your head. 

  
“Well hey, what about you? You have to be afraid of something,” Sam queried. “It’s not fair you know all our secrets and we don’t know yours.”

  
“Yeah, spill the beans sweetheart,” Dean ordered. 

  
“I don’t know if I want to. You two will probably use it against me,” you responded, trying to get out of answering. However, both Sam and Dean looked over their shoulders at you. Dean asked, “Now, would we really do that? Ok yeah we probably will. But tough, answer up buttercup.”

  
You took a deep breath and let out a sigh, “Fine, but at least mine is actually horrifying. Did you all ever see that show ‘Tales From the Crypt’?” They both nodded so you continued, “Well, that guy that tells the stories, the crypt keeper? I can’t stand him. That little laugh of his just freaks me out to my core.”

  
“Oh, you mean this one?” Dean asked before laughing as high pitched as he could, “Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh!.” 

  
“Yes! That one!” you squealed. At the sound of that laugh, you could feel ice rush down your spine. 

  
“Dean, maybe it’s more like this,” Sam added before mimicking the laugh. Soon enough, both of them were taking turns to cackle and you felt your whole body run cold. You covered your ears to try and block out the sounds. After a few more rounds of their mocking, they finally stopped. You looked back and forth between them as you said, “I hate the both of you right now.” Sam reached back and gave you a consoling rub on the arm while Dean said, “Eh, won’t be the last time you say that to us.”

  
A few more hours passed like this and you found yourself in a state of bliss. Yes, you were on your way to Canada to, hopefully, kill a crossroads demon, but you were starting to see Sam and Dean as more than just hunters; they were real people. Sam had fallen asleep a little after midnight, leaving you and Dean to pass the time. Since you had slept so long that day, you knew there was no way you were going to feel sleepy for a few more hours. You were seated behind him and could tell he was struggling to stay awake. You reached your hands up and gently started to massage his shoulders over his green army jacket. 

  
“Dean, are you sure we shouldn’t stop somewhere for a few hours so you can rest?’ You asked, knowing he definitely wouldn’t let you or Sam take over the wheel. 

  
He bent his neck back and forth and you felt the muscles in his shoulders start to relax under your touch, “Nah, it’ll be ok. Two more hours tops and we’ll be there babe.”

  
“Ok, well I’ll stay awake with you. I got your back Dean.”

  
He nodded his head and reached back with his right hand to grab your hand from his shoulder. He pulled it forward and gave you a kiss on the top of your hand before saying, “Thanks princess.”

  
It was after 4:00am when the three of you finally rolled into Emerson. Dean pulled into the parking lot of the “Maple Leaf Hotel” and acquired a room. After pulling around to the door, you insisted on helping carry in the bags while he woke up Sam. 

  
You knew that they always stayed in the cheapest motel possible, but to actually see it in person, was a little jarring. There was a faint smell of mildew in the air and some mysterious dark stains on the cream colored walls. The couch looked worn down and hairy, but at least the two beds and their sheets looked acceptable. You plopped your and Dean’s bags onto a bed and Sam’s onto the the other before heading into the bathroom to change. You decided to slip on some grey yoga pants and then removed your bra before putting on a simple navy blue tank top. 

  
When you came back out to the room, Sam just nodded at you as he walked past you to the bathroom. Dean had apparently already changed into some dark grey sweatpants and a grey T-shirt. He was laying a blanket down on the couch and was fluffing up a pillow that he had apparently gotten from the other bed, as both of the pillows on your bed were still intact. 

  
“Dean, what are you doing?” you asked. 

  
“Interpretive dance,” he replied sarcastically with a smirk. 

  
“Hardy har har,” you replied as you made your way over to sit on the end of your bed, “No seriously, there’s no way that couch is gonna be comfortable.” 

  
“I’ll be fine once I fall asleep. It’s no big deal.”

  
“Dean, if you wanna sleep in the bed, I wouldn’t mind sharing it. You paid for the room and you’ve driven all day. It’s not fair for you to sleep on the couch.”

  
“Really princess, I’ve slept on worse.”

  
“Dean,” you said barely above a whisper, causing him to stop fixing the blanket and look at you, “I _want_ you to sleep with me. That is, if you don’t mind sharing a bed with me.”

  
He took two long strides towards you and leaned over the bed before pulling you into a deep kiss. You closed your eyes and pulled him down until you were flat on your back with all of his weight laying on top of you. Normally, the full weight of him against you might’ve made you felt claustrophobic, but instead you felt secure. You bit at his lip and he let out a little growl before he dived back into the kiss with fervent need. His right hand started to slide up your side and you felt him grab your breast and give it a light squeeze over the fabric of your tank. 

  
“Dean,” you moaned at the same time that Sam came out of the bathroom, yelling, “Dean!”

  
Sam’s sudden appearance startled you, but Dean simply looked towards his brother, hand still fondling your breast, “What?”

  
“I don’t mind sharing a room with you two, but can you at least avoid . . . that,” he said pointing to the two of you, “while I’m in the room?”

  
Dean turned to look back at you and gave you a wink, “I ain’t making any promises.”

  
You turned to look at Sam, “We’ll do our best Sam. After all,” you continued as you looked back to Dean, “I don’t like the idea of him walking in on me naked.”

  
“Thank God at least one of you is semi reasonable,” Sam commented as he made his way over to bed, turning off the lights in the room. 

  
Dean gave you one more kiss before rolling over to his side of the bed. He turned and pulled you into him so your back was against your chest. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “You know, if we’re really quiet . . .”

  
“Dean, no!” Sam yelled from across the dark. 

  
You couldn’t help but to giggle. You turned your head and in a hushed tone said, “Dean, I don’t want to have to be quiet with you,” eliciting a small groan from Dean as he pulled you even closer to him. 

  
“And now, I’m going to have nightmares,” Sam added. 

  
Dean was out cold in just a few minutes and you soon followed after, the sound of his soft snores and the heat radiating off his body lulling you into a deep sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback get me excited and help fuel my desire to write. So, if you’re enjoying the story, please take a quick moment to let me know. Thanks! 😊


	14. Surprise Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You, Dean and Sam meet up with Jody and Asa to discuss Jael.

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
The crunching of your boots against the rocky path from the diner back to the motel was the only sound that invaded the otherwise silent morning air. Despite driving all day, when you woke up and saw it was 8:30am, you had gotten up and went to take a shower. You may have only slept for a little over four hours, but it was the soundest sleep you’d had in years. 

  
Apparently, you never moved throughout the night. Your arm had still been wrapped around her middle and your face was buried in her hair when you awoke. You inhaled deeply and relished in her aroma. Somehow, she smelled of cherries and honey with a faint scent of vanilla. You could feel yourself pressed hard against the crack of her luscious ass and it took all your strength to not grind into her. Instead, you somehow managed to pull yourself away carefully and head to the bathroom to prepare for the day. 

  
When you came back out, she had rolled over and had one arm stretched out across your side, as if reaching out for you. Her mouth was wide open, just as it had been in the car yesterday afternoon, and her hair was fanned out across her pillow. Sam started to stir in his bed, stretching and letting out a huge yawn. You caught his eyes and held up a finger to your mouth while pointing to her. He understood your message and quickly stifled himself. “_Coffee_?” you mouthed to him. Sam nodded and pointed to the bathroom indicating he was going to take a shower.

  
You arrived back to the room and quietly opened the door, just in case she was still sleeping, but you were pleasantly surprised to see that she was sitting up in bed. She smiled and greeted you, “Hey stranger. So, you just sleep with a girl and then leave her cold and alone in bed the next morning?”

  
“Nah sweetheart, never with you. I just went to grab a little breakfast,” you answered, bringing her over a coffee and a breakfast sandwich. “I got it black but brought cream and sugar just in case.”

  
“Ok, breakfast in bed is a perfectly acceptable excuse for not waking up next to you. Can I please have three creams and sugars?”

  
You grabbed her cream and sugar and joined her on the bed so that you both were sitting against the headboard. She had turned on the TV to the morning news and the two of you sat there eating your breakfast, drinking your coffee and catching up on world events. It was all so . . . _normal_, despite the fact that you all planned to hunt and kill a supernatural creature later today. 

Soon, Sam was out of the bathroom and she had her turn to get ready. 

  
“So, what’s the plan?” you asked Sam while taking a sip of your coffee. 

  
“Well, Jody called and said that they wanted to meet for lunch in a couple of hours at a local bar called ‘_Crossroads_’.”

  
“Yeah, no irony there, huh?”

  
Sam scoffed, “Right? Anyway, we’re supposed to meet Jody and Asa there and apparently another hunter who he want to remain a surprise.”

  
You groaned, “I don’t like that.”

  
“Yeah, me either. But, if Jody and (Y/N) think we can trust him, I say we go with it.” You nodded and Sam continued speaking, “Dean, do you think it’s a good idea to have (Y/N) here? I mean, I understand that you’d want her close to you, but she’s completely inexperienced at hunting. Watching it on TV is nothing like actually doing it in real life.”

  
“I know. I already had this conversation with her and she actually agreed with me. She didn’t want to be left behind, but she agreed to stay out of the action.”

  
“And you believed her? You think she’s just gonna sit back and let us do all the heavy lifting?” Sam asked incredulously with a scoff. 

  
“She will if she knows what’s good for her.” Dean answered sternly. 

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You finished blow drying your hair and gathered up your dirty clothes from the bathroom before heading back into the bedroom. Today, you had decided on boots, another pair of dark jeans and a shirt that said “_My other car is a Tardis_”. You saw Dean stare at your shirt judgingly, but you just stuck out your tongue and tried your best to ignore him. Sam, who was on his laptop doing who knows what, caught the little exchange, smiled and shook his head. You looked back to Dean who was patting the space beside him on the bed. You made your way over and sat beside him, trying to contain your giddiness as he wrapped one of his strong arms around you. He was wearing a plain black and white checkered plaid today, but he somehow made it look like the sexiest piece of fabric you’d ever seen. 

  
“Well, looks like we have a few hours to kill,” he explained, “We’re meeting up with Jody and Asa at a bar for lunch in a few hours. Know anything about this sweetheart?”

  
“Well, no,” you answered disappointingly, “since Asa is alive, this is all new territory for me.”

  
“(Y/N), you don’t have to go you know. After all, it could get dangerous,” Sam warned. 

  
“I know Sam, but it just feels important for me to be here. But, I already promised Dean I’d stay out of the real action unless it was absolutely necessary so that no one would be distracted by my presence. 

  
You looked to Dean with excitement in your eyes and reached up to stroke his chest, “So, we have a few hours to kill, huh?” 

  
“Yeah, got any ideas on how to kill the time?” he asked wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

  
“I’m not leaving the room so you two can have sex,” Sam simply stated from the table. 

  
You laughed and stood back up from the bed, reaching out a hand to Dean, “Come on, we’re in Canada! I’ve never been, so let’s go for a walk and see the area.”

  
It took some convincing, but you managed to pull Dean from the room. You and him spent the next few hours walking around town hand in hand. You managed to get him to try on a hat that had the Canadian flag and snapped a picture on your phone when he wasn’t looking. The next stop was a beef jerky store that had over thirty varieties of dried meat. You dared him to try the moose jerky and just about died laughing at his reaction. He chewed for a few seconds before spitting it out all across the storeroom floor and wiping his tongue with his flannel to try and get the taste out. Finally, you stumbled across a shop that advertised “Maple flavored EVERYTHING”. He tried a piece of maple candy and you saw his eyes light up, but he quickly tried to play off how much he liked it. 

  
  


“Dean, you don’t have to suppress your excitement around me. You may think it’s dorky, but I find it absolutely endearing,” you reassured him and squeezed his hand before asking the female worker behind the counter for two pounds of the sweet treat for him to take home. Dean turned you so that you were facing him, placed a hand behind your neck and pulled you in for a slow, tender kiss that was eventually interrupted by the employee clearing her throat and handing over your purchase. 

  
The two of you headed back to the motel to pick up Sam and hop in Baby to head towards the bar. Once you arrived, you parked and Sam led the way in, followed by you and Dean who had his arm wrapped around your waist. It only took you a few seconds to spot Jody and Asa at a table. 

  
You whispered to Dean with glee, “Oh my Chuck, it’s her! It’s really Jody!”

  
He pulled you closer as the three of you made it over to their table. You were trying your best not to smile like an idiot and remain calm, cool and collected. Jody gave each of the boys a hug and introduced them to Asa before turning her attention to you.

  
“So, you must be the soothsayer?” She asked. 

  
You reached out your hand to shake hers and stuttered out a reply, “Yeah, that’d be me. It’s such a pleasure to meet you Jody. I’ve watched . . . er heard so much about you from the boys and you sound like an incredible woman. I’m so honored to finally meet you and I just hope I don’t mess anything up or disappoint you.”

  
She shook your hand and looked at you with amusement, “Thanks. It’s good to hear they’re saying nice things about me. You must be something pretty special too if you convinced these boys to listen to you and bring you all the way up here with them.” 

  
Dean had just finished shaking hands with Asa and was back at your side, “Yeah, I guess she’s all right.”

  
You playfully punched Dean in the chest and he grinned down at you. 

  
“Oh, Jody, by the way,” Dean started to say with a huge smile on his face, “Since the last time I saw you, I killed Hitler.”

  
Jody stared at Dean with a questioningly look before replying, “Thank you?”

  
He nodded his head, “You’re welcome,” and you couldn’t help but to shake your head at how goofy he was. 

  
“So, this must be the little fortune teller, huh?” you heard Asa ask as he approached you. 

  
You turned your attention to him, “I must be. And you must be the hunter that single handedly took down five wendigos in one night.”

  
“Guilty as charged. Name is Asa, Asa Fox. It’s nice to officially meet you,” he said holding out one of his hands towards you.

  
You shook his hand, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), it’s nice to meet you too, Asa.”

  
After introductions were complete, the five of you took your seats, with Dean making sure to put you between him and Jody. The waitress took your lunch orders and Dean was surprised that you not only ordered another burger like him, but also a margarita and a double tequila shot. 

  
“What, you ordered a whiskey?” you asked.

  
“True. But you know you don’t have to order exactly what I eat everywhere we go,” he replied. 

  
“Dean, you happen to like what I like. Besides, I’m on a mission to try burgers from all across the world now.”

  
Instead of replying, he just reached a hand down and placed it on your knee, giving it a squeeze. Meanwhile, you could feel Jody staring at you in curiosity. After all, it wasn’t in Dean’s playbook to bring strange women on hunts, especially ones that he was constantly canoodling with. 

  
Sam spoke up, “So, Asa, can you fill us in on what you do know or do we need to wait for your other friend?”

  
“Nah, she’s pretty much caught up on the story, so I can fill you guys in. She texted a few minutes ago and said she got caught up in a little traffic, but should be here soon,” Asa answered. 

  
“All right Asa, tell us what you know so far,” Jody requested. 

  
“Ok, so a few weeks ago, Bucky and I were on a hunt a couple hours from here. We were hunting a ghoul at a furry convention,” Asa started to explain, but stopped when he saw confused looks from Sam and Jody. Meanwhile, you and Dean were nodding in understanding. 

  
“Wait, what the hell is a furry convention?” Sam asked. 

  
You started to speak, but Dean spoke up, “Furrys are people that like to dress up as animals in costumes. Sometimes they even like to uh, do it like they do on the discovery channel, if you catch my drift.”

  
“Why am I not surprised you know that, Dean,” Sam answered. 

  
“Hey, you watch enough stuff on the internet, you eventually find some weird places,” Dean explained. 

  
“Exactly,” you added, causing the entire table to look at you. 

  
Dean was looking especially interested in what you just said, “What do you mean ‘exactly’?”

  
“_Girl, don’t you tell them a thing! You just met Jody and Asa and they’re gonna think you’re a grade A weirdo!_” 

  
Instead of being afraid at what everyone would think of you, you decided to just be yourself and replied, “Hey, just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I don’t watch porn on the internet. Dean, I’m pretty sure most of us are aware of your Asian fetish. So, just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I should be excluded from all that the internet has to offer on lonely nights.”

  
The table sat there in stunned silence before Asa finally clapped his hands together and spoke up, “I like you! Rock on with it girl!”

  
Dean leaned in and whispered, “Honestly, that’s pretty fucking hot,” causing you to blush. 

  
“Ok, enough about me. Asa, can you please continue the story?” you pleaded. 

  
“No problem, sugar,” he said with a wink, causing Dean to wrap his arm possessively around your shoulders. “So, we finally caught up with the damn thing and just as we were about to gank it, it mentions that he knows about an old buddy of mine and how he’s heard he would be rolling through my hometown soon.”

  
“Jael,” Sam and Jody uttered at the same time. 

  
“Exactly,” Asa continued, “I guess he thought if he could give me intel on the bastard, that we’d spare its life. So, after we took care of the ghoul, I came home and started doing research to see if I could track Jael down. I found several cases here in the area where people were found to be hanged to death. They were written off as suicides, so it didn’t make the headlines. However, when I went to talk to the victims’ families, I found a pattern. With every victim, there was a female, whether it be their daughter, wife or friend, that blamed the death on herself. They all eventually admitted to making a demon deal.”

  
“Ok, but a demon deal is supposed to be for a soul ten years later, so what gives?” Dean asked angrily. 

  
“Apparently, Jael is hiding a little clause in the contract that states whoever is the most important male in your life will die a week after your deal. He’s a sick, sadistic bastard,” Asa replied, seething with rage.

  
“Asshole,” Jody added. “So, any idea where he’s finding his victims?”

  
“Right here,” Asa explained. “A buddy of mine is a bartender here and he says that for the past two weeks, the same guy has been coming in around nine o’clock, finds a woman who’s alone and after a short conversation, he leaves with them. I showed my friend pictures of three women I interviewed and he was able to confirm that they had left with Jael one night or another.”

  
“So, now we just need to figure out a plan how to get the bastard alone and take him down,” a familiar female voice said from behind you. You turned around to look between you and Dean and were almost knocked off your seat with surprise. 

  
“Mom?” Dean and Sam asked in unison. 

  
“Hi boys,” Mary Winchester replied with a smile.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap, Mary is here! I’m so excited to bring in other characters in the story! I just hope I do them justice and make them sound as canon as possible.


	15. Word Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is not happy with the plan to take down Jael.

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
You were frozen. You couldn’t believe that your mother was actually here, smiling casually like she just didn’t up and run away from you and Sam just a few weeks ago because she “needed some time” to herself. 

  
Sam broke the silence, “Mom, what . . . how . . . why are you here?”

“Well, I went back to Lawrence for a few days and I’ve been using John’s journal to retrace a few things, trying to catch up on what I missed these last thirty three years,” Mary explained while moving to take the last empty seat between Asa and Sam.

  
“You could’ve just asked us ya know,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. 

  
“Dean, come on,” Sam added. 

  
“What? She could’ve,” you responded. You were starting to get worked up, but you felt (Y/N) slide her hand over to your knee and give you a reassuring squeeze. You pulled her closer to you and felt a little calmer. 

  
Mary spoke again, “It’s ok, he’s right. But, this is just something I needed to do alone.” She paused before continuing, “Listen, most of the people I knew from before are dead, but then I remembered Asa. He was so young when I met him that I thought he must still be around. So I looked him up and he told me that he had actually been in contact with my sons and a psychic friend of theirs. He mentioned the case and invited me along.” She took a few seconds to eye (Y/N) up and down, her eyes lingering on your arm draped around her shoulders. “You must be the psychic Asa mentioned,” Mary stated while reaching out to shake (Y/N)’s hand. 

  
“Hello, Mary. Yeah that’d be me. It’s so wonderful to meet you. You’re even more beautiful in person.”

  
“In person? What do you mean?” Mary inquired. 

  
You could feel your princess start to squirm under your arm, struggling for an explanation, so you stepped in, “I showed her a picture of you.”

  
“Really?” your mom replied with surprise. 

  
“Wait a minute,” Jody chimed in while looking at Mary wide eyed, “this is your mom!? But, I thought she was . . . .” 

  
“I was,” Mary said with a smile, “but apparently Dean did something that made a powerful force very happy and she brought me back.”

  
After she had a few seconds to process everything, she was on her feet and giving your mother a hug, “Wow! It is so nice to meet you!”

  
“Thanks, you too uh . . . Jody right? Asa said that someone named Jody would be with us, so I’m assuming that’s you?” Mary asked. 

  
“Yeah, that’s me. Wow, I’m still in shock,” she said continuing to hug your mother. Finally, she released Mary and looked slightly embarrassed as she took her seat on the other side of Asa. 

  
Before anyone else could ask any more questions, the waitress returned with your drinks and food. You and (Y/N) quickly knocked back your shots and she squirted some ketchup onto her plate and burger before passing it over to you in a fluid motion that looked like it had been practiced a hundreds times before. A few minutes passed in silence while everyone, but your mother, ate. She said she had picked up a bite to eat on the way and just ordered a water to sip on. Eventually, she turned to Asa, “So, what’s the plan? How do we take Jael down?”

  
Asa swallowed his bite of steak, “Well, I think the best thing is to have bait at the bar and then lead him out the back into the alley where a few of us will be waiting to take him down.”

  
“We’ve got bullets with devil’s traps and the demon blade with us, so if we can get a clear shot, it should be pretty easy,” Sam offered. 

  
“Sounds good. So, who’s gonna be bait?” you asked with a mouthful of burger. 

  
“Well, I was gonna ask your mom to do it,” Asa started, “but she and both Jody are giving off a ‘hunter’ vibe and I’m afraid Jael will spot them and run. But now that (Y/N) is here . . .”

  
“NO! No way in hell is that happening!” You protested, dropping your burger on your plate. 

  
“Dean!” Jody said shocked at your reaction. 

  
You continued, “Look, she is simply here as an observer. She has never even hunted in her life and I’m not putting her in that kind of danger. That’s final.”

  
“Come on Dean, we’ll all be nearby and my buddy will have eyes on her from the bar. She’ll be safe,” Asa offered. 

  
“God damn it, no!” you growled slamming a fist down on the table. 

  
Your mother looked at you, “Dean, it looks like she’s a big girl and can make her own decisions. What do you say about it (Y/N)?” your mother asked, turning her attention to your supposed soulmate. 

  
You could see that she was nervous. She was chewing her lip and looking around at all the hunters at the table who were looking back at her expectedly. She finally turned her gaze toward you and you gave her a stern look and thought, “_No way in hell!_”

  
She turned to look back at your mother and answered, “If you all think it’s absolutely necessary, I will do it.”

Before you said anything you could regret, you left the table and stomped away, heading towards the front door of the bar. 

  
*****   
**Reader’s POV**

  
“Shit,” you uttered under your breath. Sam started to follow his brother but you intercepted, “Sam, I really think he needs a few minutes to wind down.” You could see Sam was torn, but he finally decided to sit back down. You had your head buried in your hands, so you missed the questioning look that Jody and Mary gave Sam and the “_later_” that he mouthed back. They were both in utter disbelief that Sam would listen to you about how to deal with his brother. 

  
“I’m sorry everyone, it’s just, I promised I wouldn’t get involved, but now it looks like I’m going to have to break my word to him,” you offered as an explanation for Dean’s outburst. 

  
“Ok, but why should he get so upset. It’s just another hunt, right?” Mary asked. 

  
You gave her a small smile, “It’s a long story, but trust me, it’s not just another hunt to him if I’m here.” Before anyone else could say anything, you were up out of your chair and headed outside to face the green eyed monster you knew would be waiting to unleash his fury upon you. 

  
You exited the front door and saw him pacing back and forth down the sidewalk in front of the Impala. He was muttering to himself, “Who does she think she is? She’s not doing it. It’s such a stupid idea. She could get hurt or killed. This is a stupid, stupid idea.”

  
“You’re not wrong you know,” you said, pulling him out of his monologue. He snapped his head up to give you a death stare, before retuning his gaze to the sidewalk and continuing to try and stomp away his anger. When he didn’t say anything else, you went over to lean against the hood of Baby, “It is a very stupid idea. I could get hurt, maimed or killed. You’re absolutely right Dean.”

  
He threw his hands up in the air, “Exactly! So why are you doing this?” He pointed a finger at you, “You promised you’d stay out of the action!”

  
“Dean, I said I wouldn’t get involved unless it was absolutely necessary, remember?”

  
He scoffed and marched over to stand in front of you until you were pinned between him and the car, “You think you’re being so brave, don’t you? You’re gonna be the bait and bring the demon straight to us and prove you can be just as much a hunter as the rest of us, right?!” he snarled. 

  
You had tried, you had really tried to remain calm, but now that he was up in your face trying to bully you into submission, it had set something off inside of you. 

  
“Listen here Winchester!” you yelled, momentarily causing a stunned look to spread across his face, “I have no ideations about being a hero or saving the day. I. AM. SCARED. SHITLESS! But, if this plan has the best success rate of all of us surviving and saving anyone else from making a bullshit deal with that demon dickhead, then I’m going to do it. If you have a better plan, tell me, because I am all ears for a scheme that doesn’t involve me!”

  
You waited a minute for him to answer and, when he didn’t you continued more calmly, “That’s what I thought. Besides, I have five of the best hunters as back up, so I’m feeling pretty good about my odds.”

  
He finally spoke in hushed tones, staring at you with softened eyes, “If something happens to you . . . ,” but he couldn’t finish his sentence. 

“Hey,” you said, reaching up to cup his face, “Nothing is going to happen. I’m not done with you yet.”

  
Suddenly, his lips were crashing down onto yours and he was shoving his tongue in between your lips. You could taste the bacon and whiskey that he had been eating moments before and felt the need in his kiss as lifted you up onto the hood of the Impala. His hands were on your ass, pulling you tight against him and your arms were wrapped around his neck. He was trying to tell you everything he felt with his kiss and you were desperately trying to let him know you understood. 

  
“Seriously guys,” Sam scolded from a few feet away, “it’s like one o’clock in the afternoon in the middle of a parking lot.”

  
After a few seconds you and Dean broke away from the kiss. “Hey, we’re just making up Sam,” you replied shyly, trying to catch your breath.

  
“I swear, I’m gonna start carrying around a spray bottle to calm you two down,” he threatened. 

  
“Won’t work,” you and Dean said at the same time before chuckling. 

  
Before helping you off the hood, Dean grabbed the sides of your face and gazed deeply into your eyes, “Do not try to be a hero. If something goes wrong, run. Got it?”

  
“Yes, sir,” you replied seriously.

  
Dean closed his eyes and grunted before planting one more kiss on your lips. He finally helped you off the hood and held your hand tightly as you made your way back into the bar to hammer out the details of the plan. They decided that Mary and Jody would sit at a table in the back to help keep an eye on you while Asa’s bartender friend pretended to serve you alcoholic beverages. Sam would stay guard at the front once Jael arrived and Asa and Dean would be waiting outside in the alleyway to take care of him once you brought him out there. There were still several hours to kill, but everyone thought it would be best to keep out of sight until that evening, just in case. 

  
You, Sam and Dean spent most of the afternoon in silence. Sam was researching possible cases to tackle after you dealt with Jael and Dean hadn’t let you out of his grip since this afternoon. The two of you were currently laying on the bed, with you on your stomach, stretched across him, lazily running your finger up and down his chest while his hand ran up and down your back. In the background, “Dr. Sexy, M.D.” played on the motel TV, but no one was really paying attention to it. 

  
Several hours passed until Sam spoke up, “So, I think I’m gonna go grab some dinner before we head out. You two hungry?” but the both of you just shook your head. “Ok, I’ll be back in about half an hour then.”

  
Even though you knew you had a little time to fool around, you both were too preoccupied with what was to come next. The stress must’ve been getting to Dean, because he finally stood up and walked to the mini fridge to grab a beer and sat at the table. You couldn’t help but to want to comfort him, so you made your way over and straddled one of his legs, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

  
“Hey,” you simply said as he took a swig of his beer, “You know how I know everything is gonna be ok?” You asked. 

  
He put his beer on the table and wrapped his arms around your middle, looking at you solemnly, “How?”

  
“Because, I have still yet to hear those three little words from you. When this all works out, you’re gonna have to say them,” you teased. 

  
“Yeah, still never gonna happen princess,” he said, finally cracking a small smile.

  
You closed your eyes and leaned in to give him a comforting kiss, but then you felt his hands again on your ass, pressing you closer to him. You gasped and he took advantage of the opening in your mouth to slip in his tongue. You felt him lick the back of your top teeth and then suck your bottom lip in his mouth. He slowly released it, but grabbed it once again with his teeth and you could feel his tongue swiping back and forth as he held your lip in his mouth. You started breathing heavily and felt arousal start to dampen your panties. His sudden assault on your mouth caused you to subconsciously start to rock your hips back and forth across his leg. 

  
He pulled back and eyed you with curiosity, “What you doing there, sweetheart?” he asked, placing his hands on your hips to still you. 

  
You were pulled out of your trancelike state and blushed when you realized you were basically dry humping his thigh, “Wow, I’m sorry, I just got caught up in the moment I guess.”

  
He was looking at you with a devilish grin and started to rock your hips back and forth again with his hands, “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

  
You could feel the fabric of your jeans start to rub against your clit as he forced you back and forth across his thigh. You couldn’t help but to lean your head back and moan, “Oh God.” He leaned forward and started to suck on that sweet spot at the bottom of your neck that he found just yesterday. Once he was satisfied you were again marked, he pulled you in for a passionate, needy kiss.

  
You lazily rocked back and forth for a few minutes, enjoying his hands on your hips and the taste of his invading tongue. He removed one hand from your hips to tweak your right nipple. You cried into his mouth, “Dean, yes! Oh God, harder!” You felt him squeeze your nipple hard and you started to grind vigorously against him, a guttural moan escaping from deep within your chest. 

  
He smirked against your mouth, “So, my little nerd likes it when I’m rough on her nipples?”

  
“Mmmm, Dean, yes,” you mewed as he squeezed your pink bud again.

  
“You are so not who I thought you’d be,” he confessed as he returned his lips to yours. 

  
You let out another gasp of pressure when he urged your hips to start moving faster and you felt the muscles in his thigh start to flex, adding more pressure to that growing ache in your pussy. You started to move in circular motions as you thrusted back and forth and grabbed his shoulders to give yourself more leverage. He removed his other hand from your hip and reached up to pinch and pull your other nipple over the fabric of your shirt, causing you to arch your back in pleasure.

“Is this what you want sweetheart?” he asked, his voice deeper than usual. 

  
You managed to open your eyes to look at him and were caught off guard by how dark his once bright green eyes were now, “Yes, D-d-dean!”

  
That pressure inside of you was growing tighter and tighter until you were no longer capable of coherent thoughts. Even though he had barely touched you, he had managed to turn you into putty in his hands. You were simply a creature of physical sensations at this point, burning hot for him. 

  
Your legs began to tremble as the pressure inside you built and you knew you were on the precipice, “Dean, f-f-fuck!” you uttered out in between thrusts. 

  
He released one of your breasts and reached up to grab your neck to bring you close and whispered, “That’s right my sexy, sweet nerd. Come for me, babe,” before licking the outer shell of your ear.

  
That was the last piece of stimulation you needed to send you spiraling down over the edge. You shut your eyes tight and came harshly, screaming out his name and reaching up to pull his hair. He reached his hands back down to your hips to help ease you through your orgasm. 

  
When you finally stopped moving against him, you opened your eyes and saw stars. Meanwhile, he was staring at you in utter disbelief. 

  
“Damn, that was . . . unexpected. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

  
“Maybe I was just waiting for the right person to unleash it?” you quipped before looking down to see a darkened stain on his jeans. “Sorry about that, I just got carried away.”

  
He reached a hand up to grab your chin, “Hey, you can get carried away with me anytime. No need to apologize.” He pulled you down for a kiss and you started to reach for his belt, but he stopped you. 

  
“Babe, as much as I would love to keep going, it’s about time to change and get ready to leave,” he noted looking at the clock. 

  
You looked over and saw that it was now approaching 8:00pm and you still had to change your clothes and get to the bar. You turned back to Dean, “Son of a bitch,” you whispered. 

  
“Don’t worry, we’ll have more time later. Besides, like you said, I’m not done with you yet,” he said seductively and pulled you in for another kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it was time to give a little taste of all the smutty goodness that is to come. Besides, could you really resist Dean Winchester for long?  
Hope you are enjoying the fluff as well!


	16. S.I.N.G.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the rest of the gathered hunters carry out your plan to kill Jael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for the first hunt!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
It was 8:45pm and you were seated at a stool at the bar, sipping on a coke that was supposed to look like a rum and coke. Asa’s friend, Danny, had filled in the other employees that he was the only one to serve you tonight. You could see Mary and Jody in a booth over in the corner, causally glancing at you from time to time. You were thankful that Dean was outside in the alley because three other men had already approached you to try and get your number, but you had been able to get rid of them without too much hassle. 

You tried to prepare for every situation when packing, so luckily, you had a simple little black dress and matching heels that would, hopefully, catch Jael’s attention. When getting ready, you had done your best to cover up the fresh hickey Dean had marked you with, but the evidence was still slightly visible. You had your hair down straight and were reminiscing about the “_deer in the headlights_” look Dean had given you after you came out of the bathroom at the motel after changing. 

  
Dean had stuck out his tongue and panted cartoonishly before Sam slapped him on the head, “Focus Dean!”

  
He stood from his seat at the table and made his way over to wrap you in his arms, “Oh, I’m focused all right.”

  
You pulled yourself out of his grip to grab your purse from the bed, “Later, babe. Come on, we have work to do. Then we can have play time.”

  
He wagged his eyebrows and came up behind you, sweeping your hair away and planting a soft kiss on your neck.

  
“I’m going to the car. If you guys are not out here in five minutes, I’m calling Jody to come break you two up,” Sam threatened before leaving the motel room. 

  
Dean continued kissing your neck, making his way towards your shoulder and his hands were snaking up your sides towards your breasts, “Hey, I can get a lot done in five minutes.”

  
“I bet you can,” you answered breathlessly, almost willing to be late in order for Dean to show you. 

  
All of a sudden, his lips were gone and he was pulling you towards the door, “But, like you said, we got work to do.” 

  
You gasped indignantly, “And you call _me_ the tease?”

  
“Hey, turn about is fair play,” he replied with a wink. 

  
Before leaving the parking lot, Sam had showed you a picture that Asa had texted him of the poor man that Jael was possessing. He was an attractive male in his mid 30s. He had light brown skin, short, dark hair and piercing blue eyes. You did your best to memorize him so you could easily pick him out in a crowd. 

  
As if on cue, right at nine o’clock, Jael entered the bar. You saw him scan the room out of the corner of your eye and you did your best not to look too interested. You downed your drink and ordered another, doing your best to look sad and desperate. Jael sat down at the bar a few seats down from you and was eyeing you with curiosity. 

  
“_Here fishy, fishy, fishy. Come and get it, you dick._”

  
Fifteen minutes passed and you saw Jael making small talk with a few other women, but he never left with them. You finished your drink and ordered another, hoping that Jael would wait until he thought you were sufficiently drunk to take advantage of you. You worked up some tears as Asa’s friend brought you another coke. 

  
“Hey, why don’t you put that on my tab,” a male voice said from behind, as you felt a strange hand land on your shoulder. 

  
You turned around and were caught off guard to find Jael had made his way around to you. The photo had not done his vessel justice. He was truly a good looking man and the smell of his cologne was inebriating. You could see why so many woman had been deceived by him.

  
He pointed to the empty seat next to you, “May I, love?”

  
“S-s-sure,” you stammered. 

  
“So, I’ve been watching you for a while,” he stated. 

  
“Really? Why?” you asked. 

  
“Well, I’m just wondering why a beautiful creature like you is sitting all alone at a bar,” he mused, reaching over to place a hand on your bare knee. 

  
“_I’m so glad Dean is not inside right now because he would totally blow our cover._”

  
“Let’s just say, I’m trying to forget someone,” you lied, starting to tell him the story you and the group had concocted together. 

  
“Oh yeah, is it the same someone that gave you that?” he asked, reaching up his other hand to brush across the hickey on your neck.

  
“You could say that. I caught him with someone else. Cheating bastard,” you fumed and kicked back your drink. 

  
Jael leaned in and whispered, “What if I could make it so he would only love you for the rest of his life?”

  
You looked at him with uncertainty, “You could do that?”

  
“Sure could sugar. With just a snap of my fingers, he’ll be all yours for the rest of his life.”

  
“Why would you do that for me?”

  
“Oh, nothing is for free dear,” he said squeezing your knee.

  
“Hey, I’m not that kind of girl. No way!” you said slapping his hand away, knowing that it wasn’t sex he was really after. 

  
He chuckled and the sound made you sick to your stomach, “Nothing like that. I want something else. Something you won’t even miss.”

  
“What do you want?”

  
“Your soul,” he said casually. 

  
“My soul? Are you kidding me? How can you even take something like that from someone?”

  
“I’m not taking anything. You’re going to give it to me. Then I’ll make sure your little lover boy is wrapped around your finger.”

  
You didn’t say anything, opting instead to pretend to think about his proposition.

“I don’t know, isn’t your soul kind of important?” you inquired. 

  
“Nah, not really. Especially when it comes to love, right?”

  
“I guess,” you said with uncertainty. 

  
“Look, why don’t we get out of here and go somewhere more quiet and we can discuss terms,” he offered, standing and holding out his hand for you to take. 

  
“_Ha ha ha ha ha gotcha!_”

  
“Ok,” you replied and tentatively reached for his hand, “But, can we go out the back? He actually just came in here and I don’t want to face him yet.”

  
“Sure darlin’, lead the way.”

  
You managed to glance sideways to Mary and Jody and saw them nod. You made your way through the crowded bar and headed towards to back exit. You opened the door and led Jael out. As soon as the door shut, you heard Dean yell, “NOW!”

You quickly moved to the side and heard a gunshot from in front of you. You turned around to see that Jael had been shot clean between the eyes. You started to back away, but he was too quick and reached out to grab you and pulled you so your back was against him. 

  
“Stupid slut,” he gritted between his teeth as he reached one hand up to hold you tightly by your throat. 

  
“Let her go, you red eyed son of a bitch,” Dean growled, moving closer with his gun still pointed towards Jael. 

  
“Nah, don’t think I will just yet. In fact, maybe I’ll just possess her. I’m sure I could get a lot of guys to make deals with me with a fine ass like this,” he said, grabbing a handful of your ass with his free hand. Before anyone could react, he opened his mouth to escape from his current vessel, but nothing happened. 

  
Dean smirked, “Bullet has a devil’s trap in it. Sorry, you won’t be smoking out anytime soon.”

  
“Come on Jael, this ends tonight,” Asa spoke up, coming around from his hiding spot, wielding the demon blade. 

  
“Well, well, well. Asa, my old buddy. So you’re the one behind all of this? It’s good to see you,” Jael said, his eyes flashing red. 

  
“Let the girl go Jael, it’s over,” Asa said, closing in on the two of you. 

  
Jael’s grip tightened around your neck and were starting to see black spots. 

  
“I have a better plan,” he said menacingly, “how about I snap her neck and then you can kill me.”

  
Dean was staring knives at Jael and trying to come up with a plan to pull you from his grip. But suddenly, you heard a voice yell from inside, “_SING GIRL! SING!!_”

  
Jael hadn’t had the forethought to pin your arms, assuming you were just another weak, human girl. So, you were able to catch him off guard when you suddenly slammed your right elbow back and into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He kept his grip on your neck, but you could feel it loosen. Not letting up on your attack, you picked up your left foot and slammed your heel down on his left shoe. He was barely holding your neck at this point, so you were able to lean forward before slamming your head back into his face, reveling in a satisfying *CRACK* as you broke his nose. By this time, you were free from his grip, but so fueled by pure rage that he had the audacity to threaten you and feel you up, that instead of escaping from his grasp, you turned, grabbed his shoulders and shoved your knee up into his crotch. 

  
During that time, Dean had apparently stepped forward towards you. He grabbed your arm tightly and pulled you away from the demon. That’s when Asa stepped forward and plunged the dagger into Jael’s chest, causing him to light up in an orange electric glow that you were too familiar with, and slump to the ground. 

  
Sam, Mary and Jody came running around the corner and Dean held you facing him, assessing you for wounds, “Are you ok?” he asked, his eyes laced with concern.

  
“My throat is sore, but yeah, I’m fine,” you answered. But then, you reached to the back of your head and felt a stinging sensation as your fingers made contact with your scalp. You pulled your hand back around to find blood, “Ok, maybe not completely ok.”

  
Dean looked to the back of your head and gingerly moved your hair around, “Yeah, you got a pretty good cut there. You’re gonna need stitches.”

  
Mary was the first to speak, “So, did you get him?”

  
Asa came strolling over and patted you on the shoulder, “Hell yeah we did! And this little lady kicked his ass.”

  
This earned stares from the three hunters that hadn’t been outside. Jody asked, “Really?”

  
Dean was now looking at you with pride, “Yeah, yeah she did. It was like some Kung fu shit. Where the hell did that come from?”

  
You giggled, “Ok, before I explain, just remember I just kicked a demon’s ass, so you can’t make fun of me.” You took a deep breath, “So, I saw a movie once and they taught you to ‘sing’ if you were ever in a position like I was. You want to hit the attacker in the solarplex, instep, nose then the groin. I had no idea if it would work or not, but I figured I had nothing to lose.”

  
“Wait,” Jody spoke up, “are you talking about ‘_Miss Congeniality_’?”

  
“Wait, you watch chick flicks?” Dean asked Jody. 

  
“Well, Dean, I’m a chick,” She answered. 

  
“No, no, no, you’re a badass sheriff chick, not a rom-com chick. Wait, are you a rom-com chick?” Dean questioned. 

  
“Are you?” she quipped. 

  
“I’m not, but apparently you two are,” he answered pointing between you and Jody. 

  
You could see a little smile spread across Mary’s face, “Well, it may be unconventional, but it looks like it got the job done. You can definitely think quickly on your feet (Y/N).”

  
Despite the pounding in the back of your head, you couldn’t help but to feel a warm glow of satisfaction, “Thanks, Mary. That means a lot.”

  
“Hey, I promised you drinks if this all worked out,” Asa reminded you, “How about we get rid of this body and go back into the bar.”

  
Dean started to speak, but you beat him to the punch, “Thanks Asa, maybe another time. Dean says this cut on the back of my head is gonna need stitches and I’m pretty sure I’ve had enough excitement for tonight. What if we meet up for breakfast tomorrow?”

  
“Aww, I’d love to little lady, but Tasha called me this afternoon. That witch you mentioned she was hunting, she finally tracked her down to a boarding house like you said she would. She wants me to come down and help her and the twins. I said I’d leave first thing in the morning if we took care of Jael tonight.”

  
“Raincheck?” you asked. 

  
“Definitely,” he said with a wink. “Jody, do you think you can help me get rid of this sack of shit over here?”

  
“No problem. I gotta head out early too. Sioux Falls needs its sheriff. You boys take care. It was so nice to meet you Mary. Oh and (Y/N), make sure to keep these boys in line.”

  
“I don’t think that’s possible, but I’ll try,” you answered. 

  
“I can meet up for breakfast tomorrow before heading out,” Mary offered. 

  
Dean was hesitant to speak up, so Sam chimed in, “That’d be great mom. Meet us at the diner next to our motel at say nine?”

  
“Sounds good. I’ll see you all in the morning,” Mary said before walking away. 

  
“All right, let’s get back to the hotel so I can fix up that pretty little noggin’ of yours,” Dean ordered before scooping you up into his arms like a bride. 

  
“Dean,” you protested, “I can walk you know. I’m not broken or apparently as fragile as you think.”

  
“Yeah yeah, tough. I don’t want you getting dizzy and falling on the way to the car.”

  
As if on cue, you did start to feel lightheaded. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head and you felt your head drop back a little before picking it back up. 

  
“See,” Dean said condescendingly. 

  
You made a mocking face at him, but then decided he was right. You closed your eyes and leaned into his chest while he carried you to the Impala. Inside you were exploding with happiness and doing a little victory dance, “_Ha ha! I’m not just a side piece! I actually contributed tonight!_”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“Fuckarooni,” (Y/N) uttered under her breath as you dabbed the cut on the back of her head with a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic. She pinched her nose and took another swig of the bottle of whiskey you had finally convinced her drink to help ease her suffering. 

  
“You’re cracking me up,” you mused.

  
“Hey, I don’t like the stuff, but I have a feeling the worse is yet to come, so I’m trying to numb the pain as fast as possible.”

  
“You’re not wrong. The stitches are gonna suck ass.”

  
“Great,” she said sarcastically, taking another big swig from the bottle. 

  
She was laying across the bottom of the bed and you had pulled up a chair beside her so you could clean her wound and stitch her up. She wasn’t wrong, the cut was pretty deep and was going to require five or six stitches. Sam had left to go pick up a couple of pizzas since you two hand’t eaten before taking on the Jael. But now, both of you were starving. 

  
You grabbed the needle from the first aid kid, sterilizing it by using your lighter to burn it for a few seconds. You let it cool and threaded it before speaking, “OK, you ready, sweetheart?”

  
She took another long drink from the bottle before answering, “No, but let’s get this over with.”

  
You lined up the needle and started the first stitch. She immediately yelled, “God damn it!” and gripped the bedsheets with the hand that wasn’t holding the bottle. It was tearing you up inside to put her through this pain, but you knew it needed to be done and she had insisted you be the one to patch her up instead of Sam. You finished up the first stitch and could hear her silently sobbing. 

  
“Ok, one down, four or five more to go,” you said, “Go ahead and take a few more drinks.”

  
She did so without even pinching her nose, “This fucking blows.”

  
“Ready to give up the hunter life?” you asked jokingly.

  
She turned to you and you could see the wetness on her face where she had been crying, “Not if it means leaving you. I can handle a little pain. Pain is temporary.”

  
You reached up a hand and wiped away a stray tear that had fallen down her cheek, “Ready for round two?”

  
She turned her head to lay her face back against the bed, “Ready whenever you are Dean,” she answered with determination. 

  
You started on the other stitch and this time she didn’t flinch, but instead uttered, “Son of a bitch! Well, either I’m getting used to it or the whiskey is kicking in.”

  
“Good. Hey, why don’t you talk to me about the future a little bit, take your mind off of what’s going on back here.”

  
“Ok, well I think the most important thing to talk to you about now, especially before in the morning, is your mom.”

  
“I don’t wanna talk about her right now,” you said sternly. 

  
“Ok, then don’t talk, I will.”

  
“(Y/N),” you said as a warning. 

  
“No, Winchester, you wanted to distract me and this will distract . . . Ow!” she yelped as you caught her by surprise by starting on the third stitch, “me.” When you didn’t say anything, she took it as her cue to continue, “So, I really think I need to talk to your mom about the British Men of Letters. They are going to want to recruit her and she should say yes.”

  
“Are you crazy?” you asked, “They tried to kill Sam and I!”

  
“I know, I know, but remember, she needs to play along with them for now. Like I said before, they will eventually lead her on a hunt for the colt that will allow Sam to take down the alpha vampire. Plus, you all will eventually get it and then we’ll have it in our arsenal.”

  
“I still don’t like the idea of putting her in danger like that.”

  
“I know Dean, but I promise, the minute that we no longer need them, I will let you know and we can take them down.”

  
It was silent for a few minutes as you started on the penultimate stitch. She must’ve been thoroughly numbed by now because she didn’t yell or move as the needle pierced her scalp.

  
“Dean, there’s something else you should know,” she said.

  
“What babe?”

  
“Your mother, she’s going through a lot. Now, don’t get me wrong, I know that you and Sam are dealing with a lot too. Your mother has been gone practically your whole lives and it seems like the moment she got back, she ran away. I can see how that might make you feel rejected or like she doesn’t care, but really it’s the exact opposite. She loves you both so much and she’s feeling incredibly guilty because she wants to make things right, but from a distance. Being near you and Sam, it’s too hard for her right now. Seeing the path that she sent you and Sam down, it’s eating her up inside. She’s scared that the two of you won’t ever be able to forgive her for what she did and the deal she made with Azazel.”

  
By this time, you had finished the last stitch and were putting the medical supplies back into the first aid kit. You both had been so enraptured in the conversation, that you didn’t notice Sam open the door and catch the tail end of her speech. 

  
“Our mom really thinks that we couldn’t forgive her?” Sam asked. 

  
His words startled the both of you, causing you to look towards him. (Y/N) simply nodded and said, “Yeah, she does.”

  
You had too many emotions running through you at this point to pick one to focus on. You were angry, relieved but finally, confusion won out and you asked, “Well hell, why didn’t she just say that then instead of pulling a disappearing act?”

  
(Y/N) sat up slowly on the bed, taking a minute to steady herself before answering, “Because idjit, she’s a Winchester and y’all never reveal your true feelings or emotions until someone is an inch away from death. So, I guess I’m going to have to be the voice of reason here and translate between y’all.”

  
You grinned at her, shaking your head in understanding. 

  
She continued, “Maybe, in the morning, I can meet her first and talk with her one on one for a few minutes to fill her in on everything. I’m pretty sure she’s not buying the whole psychic story.”

  
Sam placed the pizzas down on the table, “Yeah, I figured she wouldn’t. She and Jody both mentioned something about wanting the real story when you left to go outside and talk to Dean at the bar this afternoon.”

  
“And I really don’t like the idea of lying to your mother, especially if I want her to trust me,” she added. 

  
“Ok then, Sammy and I will give you a fifteen minute head start with her tomorrow so you can talk to her by yourself.”

  
“Thanks Dean,” she said leaning in to give you a quick kiss before standing up to head to the bathroom, “Well, I’m gonna go get cleaned up. Dean, save me some pizza!”

  
With that, she closed the door and you heard the water start to run in the shower, “Well, I guess it’s good to know where mom’s head is at. It explains while she’s been so distant and . . . .”

  
“Cold,” Sam stated, finishing your sentence, “It makes me feel a little better about her running out on us.”

  
“Yeah, me too,” you replied before grabbing a beer, a box of pizza and sitting on the bed. 

Shortly thereafter, she returned from the shower and grabbed the other pizza box before cuddling up in bed next to you. The two of you almost managed to finish off both pies while an old western played on the motel TV. Finally, you lied down on your back and she sprawled across your chest. By now, it was well after midnight and Sam had already fallen asleep. You turned off the bedside light and the television and set an alarm for eight in the morning. Then, for the second night in a row, you slept with a woman without actually sleeping with her. 

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
The next morning, Sam and Dean stayed behind while you made your way over to the diner to chat with ‘Mother Mary’. You had opted to put on the one plain shirt, a baby blue v-neck, that you packed with a pair of jeans and your leather jacket. Being on the road made you realize that wearing layers like the boys did was probably not a bad idea and you made a mental note to go shopping for some proper attire when you had a chance. 

  
“_Or maybe I can just borrow some of Dean’s flannels_,” you thought optimistically. 

  
There were lots of people bustling about the restaurant as you stepped through the front and heard the little *ding* of the bell above the door. You immediately spotted Mary and made your way over to sit across from at the booth she had reserved. She looked at you in confusion when she realized that her sons weren’t with you. 

  
“Hey (Y/N). Where’s Sam and Dean?” she asked. 

  
“Uh, I asked them if I could have a few minutes alone to talk with you this morning,” you uttered nervously.

  
“Oh, really? Why’s that?”

  
“Because, Mary, I don’t want to lie to you anymore,” you confessed. 

  
“Ok, so you’re admitting that the whole ‘psychic’ story is bull?” she asked accusingly, sitting back and crossing her arms. 

  
“It’s what Sam and Dean thought would be the best. The less people that know who I truly am, the better.”

  
“So then, who are you and why do you and my son seem to be locked together at the hip?” she questioned with a straight face, staring you down.

  
Over the next five minutes, you went on to explain who you were, how you had woken up in the bunker with the letter for Dean and Castiel’s unwillingness to answer any questions. Mary sat there, nodding her head occasionally and by the time you were finished, she had at least uncrossed her arms, but continued to sit back as far away from you as you could. 

  
“So, did Dean ever tell you what the letter said?” she wanted to know. 

  
“No, no he didn’t and he seems pretty adamant on keeping that a secret. I practically know everything about him from watching the show and, even though it probably has to do with me, I’m trying to trust him and let him tell me in his own time.”

  
Mary finally leaned forward and suddenly seemed to be in a protective “_mother bear_” mode, “So what, are you like some kind of stalker or something? Did you make a demon deal or have a witch put a curse on my boy?” she finished, pointing a finger at you. 

  
You held your hands up, “Oh gosh Mary . . . er . . . Mrs. Winchester, no! Trust me, they boys ran all the tests when I showed up and like I said, Castiel confirmed that I was legitimately supposed to be here. Believe me, when I showed up in this reality, I tried to be logical about it and realized that Sam and Dean may not be the Sam and Dean that I knew from the show. However, over the last week, I’ve found out that they are exactly who I think they are and more.”

  
This seemed to relax Mary a little bit and she backed down, “Just know, if you hurt my boys, I will hunt you down and destroy you.”

  
Even though her words were serious and terrified you to your core, you couldn’t help but smile, “Mary, I swear that won’t happen.” 

  
“Good,” she added with a nod. 

  
“So, that brings me to part two of the conversation.”

  
“There’s more?”

  
“Yes, two more things actually. So, as I said, I know a lot of things that are going to happen over the next few years. The biggest thing I think we need to resolve early on is your relationship with Sam and Dean.”

  
“Look, just because you dropped out of the sky with knowledge about the future, doesn’t mean you can lecture me about my boys!”

  
“_Uh – oh, mother bear Mary is back._”

  
“I’m not trying to lecture, I’m trying to be the bridge between the three of you. I know you love them more than anything, but I also know that you’re mourning the loss of them as well, as you knew them. I can only imagine how difficult it must be to have two young children and in the blink of an eye, they’re full grown men. I know that you just want to make the world safer for them and you have all this guilt about the deal you made with Azazel. You’re worried that they really hate you or won’t forgive you. But Mary, that’s the furthest thing from the truth. They do forgive you and are just happy that you’re back in their lives.”

  
Mary had looked down and had started fidgeting with her fingers about halfway through your speech and you were so focused on her and trying to make her believe you, that neither of you noticed that the Winchester brothers were now standing beside the table. 

  
Without looking up, Mary asked, “How can you be so sure? I did such a horrible thing.”

  
Sam slid in beside his mother, startling the two of you, “Mom, really, it’s OK. We know you did what you did because you thought it was right. We love you.”

  
Dean sat down beside you, automatically wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in tight, “What you did, the deal and everything that’s happened ever since then, it made us who we are. And who we are, we kick ass.”

  
You couldn’t help but to beam up at Dean with pride, “Yeah you do!”

  
This caused the three Winchesters to laugh, helping to relieve the emotional tension in the air. Dean reached his free hand across the the table to grab his mother’s hand tightly and Sam wrapped her in a tight side hug. 

  
You finally broke the silence, “So, everyone on the same page?”

  
Sam, Mary and Dean all smiled and nodded. Mary looked at you, her eyes slightly glistening with tears, “Thanks (Y/N).”

  
“You’re welcome Mary. But listen, I know you may still need your space. But, I want you at the bunker at least two days a month to have dinner and maybe a movie night or something with the boys. Got me?” you added sternly. 

  
She eyed you with interest, “And what makes you think you can boss me around like that?”

  
You sucked in your breath between your teeth and blurted out, “I don’t know, I was just hoping that my overconfidence would convince you to agree with me with no questions?”

  
“She’s a ballsy one,” Dean commented before kissing you on your temple. 

  
“I like it,” Mary said with a small grin, “Ok, I will do my best to check in, in person, twice a month.”

  
The waitress arrived and took everyone’s breakfast order before you continued with the last piece of information that you had to tell Mary, “So one last thing, Mary. Pretty soon, the British Men of Letters are going to try and recruit you. I watched you join them and you do take down a lot of monsters. In fact, they will eventually send you on a mission for the colt, which you’ll ask Sam and Dean to help with, and it will allow Sam to eventually kill the alpha vampire. But soon after, you’ll find out that they’re assassinating American hunters. Before you can warn the boys, they brainwash you and turn you into an emotionless assassin.”

  
“So, why don’t we just go after the colt ourselves and take down the alpha?” she asked.

  
“I’m afraid if I change too much, it will have catastrophic consequences or won’t happen at all. I think by following what is supposed to happen until the point of no return is our best bet,” You answered. 

  
“Mom, if you’re not comfortable with this plan, we can go ahead and send the tea and crumpet squad bippity bopping on back to England,” Dean offered.

  
Mary sat there for a minute in contemplation, thinking over her options and looking between you and her sons. The waitress brought over the food and you all nodded in thanks to her. Mary took a sip of her coffee before finally looking to her boys, “Do you trust her?”

  
Sam and Dean both nodded and answered, “Absolutely,” and “Without a doubt,” respectively. 

  
“All right then, well I’m in. Boys, (Y/N), let’s change the future,” she proclaimed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, I hope you enjoyed the last four chapters! I can’t believe I’ve almost hit the 50,000 word mark and I swear I’m not even 10% done with this story! I hope you continue to enjoy the slow burn and stay with me. I had inspiration over the weekend and I truly think this is going to be a beautiful story. Until next time, take care!


	17. Complimenting Tastes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You, Dean and Sam continue to get to know one another. Dean takes you on a surprise field trip and you end up impressing the boys with your wild side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay in posting! I hope everyone understands that with the holiday season that I’ve been very busy, but I continue to think about this story daily. I’m hoping there won’t be such a gap in updates again!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“Dean, how many people are you going to tell that you killed Hitler?” Sam asked from the backseat of the Impala. 

  
“Hey, when you kill the leader of one of the greatest genocidal movements in history, I will let you tell the story every damn day. Until then, zip it and be appreciative,” Dean scolded.

  
“I personally liked hearing it for the third time. Plus, I think your mom got a kick out of it too,” you added. 

  
The three of you had been on the road for a few hours now and had just entered South Dakota. Sam had offered to let you ride up front on the way back, saying you deserved it since you kicked a crossroad demon’s ass and all. Of course, Dean had no objection to this idea and had enjoyed holding your hand or having you under his arm throughout the ride. However, you could see that the gas tank was getting low, meaning it would be time for a pit stop soon. Dean noticed too and a few minutes later you all pulled off the nearest exit to refill. You hopped out of the car to stretch your legs and Sam offered to go in and pick up some snacks. 

  
“Want anything?” Sam asked you. 

  
“Yeah, grab me a water bottle, a Hershey’s cookies n’cream candy bar and some sour cream and onion chips, please,” you requested. 

  
“Sam, pie and beef jerky!” Dean ordered. 

  
“You two have the weirdest cravings, I swear,” you heard Sam mutter before heading into the gas station. 

  
Dean made his way over to the fuel pump, “I’m not coming anywhere near you if you have sour cream and onion breath,” he teased.

  
“Fine by me, I was getting a little bored of you anyway,” you retorted with a smirk, earning an eye roll from Dean. 

  
He started to fill up Baby with fuel and you couldn’t help but to stare at him. His hair was softly blowing in the Midwest wind and you were appreciating his perfectly square jawline as he focused on setting up the gas to automatically pump. You were pretty sure you would never become immune to just how beautiful this man was. He caught you gawking and winked, “Why don’t you take a picture sweetheart, it’ll last a lot longer.”

  
  


  
That gave you an idea. You made your way slowly around to him and backed him against the car. You kept eye contact with him as you reached your hand into his front pocket, causing his eyes to widen. 

  
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing down there?” he asked with suspicion. After a little fidgeting, you were able to pull his one non-burner cellphone out of his pocket.

  
“Hey, what are you doing with that?” he asked while reaching to get his phone back. You were able to keep out of his reach as you opened his phone and pulled up the camera. By this time, he had caught up to you and grabbed you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

  
“What? You said to take a picture,” you said with a little chuckle. You leaned your head back and reached up to give him a kiss on the cheek while making eye contact with the camera. You took several quick pictures before Dean knew what hit him. 

  
“I was being sarcastic. I don’t really like to have my picture taken,” he replied, still trying to pry his phone from your hands, but you were able to smack them away. 

  
“Tough, I like to capture my life on film. Maybe I’ll even put together a scrapbook someday. Plus, I need to commemorate my first hunt,” you said as you continued to fidget with his phone. He had quit trying to pull it out of your hands, but was still holding you close by your waist and had leaned down to rest his head on your shoulder. You scrolled through the few pictures you had taken and picked the best one. With a few taps of your finger, you accomplished your mission and returned his phone to him. 

  
Dean had finally caught onto what you were doing and whined, “No, don’t do that. That’s embarrassing.”

  
You had chosen a picture where he was smiling and looking down from the camera while you started into it, lips fully planted on his check and made it his new lock screen. “Hey, if you really want to change it, then change it,” you offered. 

  
“You’re such a girl,” he simply stated as he kissed the top of your head. 

  
“Thanks, I like to think that it’s one my most attractive qualities.”

  
You heard the click of the gas pump and turned to see that Sam had returned with the refreshments. You made your way over to him to thank him for the snacks and open your bag of chips. Before climbing back into the front seat, you saw Dean smile at his phone and tuck it back into his front pocket. 

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
The three of you rolled into the garage of the bunker a little after midnight. Sam had fallen asleep, stretched out in the backseat, but she had remained awake with you, never allowing you to be by yourself. 

  
“_We Will Rock You_” was streaming quietly from the radio. You turned to give (Y/N) a wink and whispered, “Watch this.” You leaned forward and cranked up the volume as loud as you could. Sam was jerked awake by the sudden disruption and slammed his head against the roof. You heard little giggles from her and Sam was pissed off, “Dean, what the hell? Really?”

“Hey, that’s what you get for falling asleep,” you warned, “Besides, we’re home.”

  
A wave of exhaustion hit you as you made your way to your room and flopped your bag down onto the floor. You walked over to your bed and collapsed on your stomach, not even bothering to take off your shoes. “_Ok, I can do this, I can change my clothes and get into bed. I can do this._” 

  
You internal inspirational speech was interrupted by a knock at the door. You turned and propped yourself up on one elbow to see her leaning against your door jamb, hip cocked to the side. She had changed into a pair of black pajama pants with repeating pictures of a horse named ‘_Lil’ Sebastian_’ and she was wearing the flannel that you had given the first day after dousing her in holy water. 

  
You whistled at her, “Damn, I didn’t know you could make my shirts look so good darlin’,” you said, letting your eyes roam freely over her body. 

  
She smiled, “Mr. Winchester, are you flirting with me?”

  
You held up your other hand that wasn’t supporting your body and pointed at her with your index finger then to the bed. She rolled her eyes, but followed your instructions and made her way over to lay beside you. You rolled on top of her and kissed her lazily for several minutes, enjoying the feel of her hands running through your hair and then tracing up and down the muscles of your back. You were content with using one hand to hold a fistful of her hair, keeping her pinned in place, and the other to support your weight so you weren’t completely crushing her. 

  
You felt her hips lift off the bed and start to grind into your semi hard cock and a low moan escaped from your lips. She smiled at the sound and you pulled your lips away to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen and her eyes were slightly hooded. 

  
“_God, she’s fucking beautiful. How could she want me?_” you wondered to yourself. 

  
“Dean, something wrong?” she asked, reaching up one hand to cup your cheek. 

  
“Nah, it’s just, ok this is going to sound really lame, but I am beat from driving all day. When we do take things to the next level, I want to be able to give you everything I got,” you said, grinding yourself against her center. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, slightly arching her back, making you feel powerful that you could illicit such a response with a simple touch. 

  
She finally opened her eyes, “Well, don’t threaten me with a good time,” she said breathily. 

  
You leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, “That’s a promise sweetheart. But for now, why don’t we hit the hay. I’ve got big plans for you tomorrow if we’re not busy.” 

  
You saw her furrow her eyebrows and look at you with curiosity, “Oh, really? Do tell.”

  
You stood up from the bed and wagged a finger at her, “Now, what would be the fun in that princess.”

  
She propped herself up with her elbows behind her and pursed her lips as she stared you down, willing you to answer. Instead, you went over to you dresser and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a clean shirt. You stripped off your flannel and current T-shirt before turning around to face her. “Sweetheart, you can give me that stare all you want, I ain’t telling you nothing.” Her eyes had softened and were roaming up and down your chest. You knew exactly what you were doing and your plan to distract her from trying to pry answers out of you was working. You slipped on the clean gray shirt, kicked off your boots and shoes and unbuckled your jeans before continuing, “Now, normally I don’t condone in waiting. I’m more of a ‘if you got ‘em smoke ‘em’ kind of guy. I just love to indulge in every desire,” you said in your deepest voice as you slid your jeans down to reveal your plain black boxers and your still half hard dick pushing against the fabric. 

  
You watched her eyes widened and she subconsciously licked her lips before pulling her focus back up to you. It took everything in you not to pounce her then and there, but there was truly something different about her. You weren’t sure if it was the note from Amara or the way she had used a rom-com movie to free herself from a demon’s grasp or the fact that ever since she had arrived in your life, you had smiled and laughed more than you had in the last 15 years. But, you knew when you did sleep with her, you really wanted it to be memorable and not some quick fuck in your bed or motel. 

  
“_Damn, maybe I am growing a vagina_,” you thought sarcastically to yourself.

  
You finally started to put on your sweatpants, “But you’re such a god damn tease, I’m gonna see how long I can make you wait.”

  
With that, her face got serious, “Oh, believe me Winchester, I’m the master at waiting. You’ll be the one who won’t last long.”

  
You sneered, “Well, we’ll just have to wait and see now won’t we?”

  
“Fine,” she said in a huff, standing up from your bed and heading towards the door. 

  
“Hey, where are you going?” you asked, reaching out to grab her hand. 

  
She turned and look at you, “I guess to my bed to sleep since nothing else is coming up tonight,” flashing her eyes down to your crotch. 

  
She was obviously trying to bait you, but you were firm on your stance. You grabbed her other hand, making her face you, “Don’t be like that princess. It’ll be worth it in the end,” you said with promise in your eyes, but she continued to look at you with a bitchface that could rival Sam’s. “Don’t go, stay and sleep in my bed.”

  
“Dean, you don’t have to placate me, you know. I know we shared a bed out on the road, but now that we’re back, you don’t have to sleep in a bed with me if you don’t want to.”

  
“I was going to ask you before you came strolling in here to seduce me anyway,” you replied and saw her face soften a little bit, “Come on doll, it’s memory foam. It’ll remember you if you spend enough time in here.”

  
That did it; she gave you a small smile and leaned into give you a quick kiss, “All right, but only because you practically begged.”

  
The two of you climbed into bed with her back to your chest once more. You reached behind you to turn off the lamp on your bedside table and then draped your hand across across her stomach. You felt her reach up to pull your hand towards her face and she gave you a kiss on the back of your hand, “Night, Dean,” she whispered. 

  
You kissed her on the back of her neck, feeling a slight shiver travel down her spine, “Night, princess.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You woke up the next morning securely tucked under Dean’s protective embrace. You could feel him breathing evenly against the back of your neck, meaning he was still asleep. You quietly managed to pry yourself from his arms and tip toed out of his room. You brushed your teeth in your bathroom, grabbed your phone and headphones and headed to the kitchen. It was a little after 8:00am so you knew that the boys would probably be waking up soon. In fact, you were surprised that you were up before them. 

  
You headed down to the kitchen and decided to surprise Dean with breakfast in bed to repay him for the other day. You slid on your headphones, turned your music up and got to work on making coffee, eggs and the bacon pancakes that he seemed to love so much that first morning after your arrival. Within thirty minutes, everything was ready to go. You were just about to head back to Dean’s room with two plates of food and mugs of coffee when Sam came waltzing in, “Hey, what’s all this?”

  
“Well, since Dean brought me breakfast the other morning, I’m just trying to repay the favor. I left you a plate of food covered up in the stove and there’s plenty of coffee.”

  
“You really are gonna have him spoiled, (Y/N). I mean, he just bought a breakfast sandwich from a diner,” he said with a smirk. 

  
“I know,” you replied blushing, “but I know he’ll appreciate it, so I wanna do it for him.”

  
He gave you a peck on the head as he walked past you towards the stove to retrieve his own breakfast, “He’s really lucky that you’re around now.”

  
“I’m gonna count on you to remind him of that when he tries to do something stupid.” You started to leave the kitchen, but then turned at the last moment, “Oh, Sam?”

  
“Yeah?” he answered, making his way over to the table with his plate of food.

  
“Dean said he had something planned for today. Any idea what that is?”

  
“Oh, yeah and he said if you asked that I was to tell you, quote, ‘nice try, princess, but quit trying to use my brother for information’.”

  
You gasped, “Nu uh!”

  
Sam nodded, “It’s true.”

  
“Well are you gonna listen to your brother or to your new favorite demon ass kicking, breakfast chef?”

  
“Sorry (Y/N), he scares me a little more than you do.”

  
You narrowed your eyes, but smiled playfully, “I gotta quit being so nice.”

  
Sam chuckled, “Don’t worry, I think it’ll be a good day. Plus, I’m coming along. He did say to be ready to leave by eleven.”

  
“Fine, fine. Enjoy your breakfast Sam.”

  
When you got back to Dean’s room, you found that he was still asleep. But now, he was flat on his back with one hand above his head and the other stretched out across his bed. You sat the tray of food down on his desk and quietly made your way over to the bed. You turned on the bedside lamp, leaned down and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, causing him to stir, “Good morning sleeping beauty,” you whispered. 

  
He took in a deep breath before responding, “Hey, you’re stealing my best lines.” He opened his eyes and you were paralyzed; his eyes were a bright green in the light and almost seemed to glow. 

  
After appreciating his beauty for a few more seconds, you gave him another quick peck, “I know, but I’m still working on new material. Besides, I brought you breakfast,” you added as you stood to and pointed to his desk. 

  
He pushed himself up so he was leaning against his headboard, “Well shucks, you’re making me feel all tingly,” he said while batting his eyelashes like a girl. 

  
You made your way around to the other side of the bed and sat down slowly, placing the tray in between the two of you, “I just wanted to repay you for the other morning.”

  
He picked up the coffee and took a long gulp, letting out an appreciative moan, before looking at the plate of food, “Are those . . . .”

  
“Mmm-hmmm, bacon pancakes.”

  
“Awesome,” he said, picking up a pancake with his bare hand and shoving it in his mouth. 

  
You couldn’t help but to laugh at his enthusiasm, “Dean, be careful! Chew! No food is worth dying for!”

  
“I don’t know doll,” barely able to speak with a mouthful of the delicious battered breakfast item, “these are pretty damn tasty. Here, have one,” he added, picking up another and force feeding it to you. 

  
You tried to slap his hand away, but he was insistent and soon enough he had stuffed a pancake in your mouth. You started to chew and soon enough you were able to swallow the entire pancake. He looked to you, wagging his eyebrows, “See, delicious?”

  
You reached over, grabbed his hand and brought it up to your mouth. You made eye contact as you singled out his index finger and slowly lowered opened your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his first knuckle and held his finger gently in place with your teeth on his nail and swirled your tongue around the tip of his digit. His breathing became uneven and he licked his bottom lip before sucking it in, in between his teeth. You smiled and closed your eyes as you slowly inserted the rest of his finger into your mouth. You circled his finger several times with your tongue before pulling it back out slowly, sucking hard. When you get to the end, you released him with a loud *pop* and said, “Yep, fucking delicious,” before opening your eyes. 

  
“_Holy shit girl, where the hell did that come from?!_” one of inner voices practically screamed, while the other was standing behind her giving you two big thumbs up. 

  
He was still staring at you, but his eyes were wider and darker, “Damn, are you trying to kill me this morning, princess?”

  
You smiled smugly, “Oh, but what a way it would be to go.”

  
He leaned over the breakfast try and gave you a hard, domineering kiss, “You continue to surprise me,” he added before leaning back against his side of the bed.

  
The two of you ate in peace for a few minutes before you broke the silence, “So, I tried to get Sam to tell me the plan for the day.”

  
“Did he deliver my message?”

  
“Yeah smartass, he did.”

  
“Good job, Sammy boy,” he praised, taking his last bite of eggs. 

  
“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?”

  
“Nope.”

  
You finally gave up trying to pry information out of him and just decided to let the day come at you, whatever he may be planning. You peaked over at his clock and saw it was going on ten o’clock, “He did say we had to be ready in at eleven though. If you want to go shower, I can take the dishes to the kitchen at meet you at Baby in an hour?”

  
“Sounds like a plan. Thanks babe,” he replied before reaching up to grab your chin and pulling you in for one more kiss.  


*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
You were making way to the garage, thinking about how you could easily get used to waking up with her bringing you coffee and breakfast in bed. The food had been even better the second time around and you had definitely enjoyed the show she put on for you when she teasingly sucked on your finger. You opened the garage door and found her standing a few feet back from the Impala, just staring. You didn’t think anyone could love Baby more than you, but she was becoming a hot contender. She had changed into her boots and a pair of jeans along with a red long sleeve t-shirt. 

  
She heard you enter and turned around, allowing you to see that the front of her shirt said, ‘_Believe_’ in sparkly silver letters, “Hey, Dean. I passed Sam on the way and he said he’d be here in just a minute. He also had me stop and stand against the wall to take my picture. What was that about?”

  
“Ask me no secrets and I’ll tell you no lies,” you answered. She rolled her eyes, but made her way over to wrap her arms around your neck and you circled yours around her middle. 

  
“So, what does your shirt mean?” you asked with curiosity.

  
“Oh, you mean ‘_Believe_’?” she asked questioned. You nodded your head and she answered, “It’s a Christmas thing. You know, like ‘Believe’ in Santa and the magic of the holiday season?”

  
You closed your eyes and shook your head, “You’re a big kid you know that?” you responded affectionately. 

  
“Says the almost forty year old who gets giddy about cowboys and Scooby Doo.”

  
“Hey, cowboys are macho and Scooby, well he’s a . . . uh . . . . a classic,” you stammered out. 

  
“You don’t have to defend yourself to me, I think it’s cute. Besides, this year, I have something even greater to believe in,” she said before leaning up to give you a slow, sweet kiss that lasted for only several seconds, but felt like an eternity. 

  
“I don’t know if I’m worth believing in sweetheart. You might have better odds betting on another horse.”

  
Hey eyes were soft as she stared at you with her big (y/e/c) eyes and gave you a huge smile. She rubbed your shoulders and answered confidently, “Trust me, I know a good bet when I see one. Besides, I have fourteens years of inside information.”

  
“You know, some people may think of that as insider trading. You could get in pretty big trouble for that. Jail even,” you teased. 

  
“Well, I trust you won’t rat me out to anyone,” she said with a wink. 

  
Sam arrived a few minutes later and you all loaded up into the car, with Sam taking his usual place in the front seat. You slid in your AC/DC cassette of “_Back in Black_” and headed off towards you destination. After about forty minutes, you pulled into a parking spot at the back of the lot.

  


“Dean, why do you always park at the back of the lot? I’m sure there are plenty of spots closer,” Sam whined.

  
“Hey, you know I want to protect Baby from any dings or scratches,” you answered. 

  
She spoke up from the back, “Yeah, plus you can find a spot more easily and get out quickly.”

  
“Exactly,” you concurred. 

  
“So, Dean, why are we at a shopping mall?” she asked. 

  
“Well, I figure if you’re bound and determined to be a part of this life, you’re going to need some proper attire and Sam here is gonna hook you up with some IDS.”

  
Realization dawned across her face, “Oooooooh, so that’s why you needed the picture this morning, Sam.”

  
Sam smiled, “Exactly.”

  
“Well, do I at least get to pick my own alias?” she asked.

  
Sam started laughing and you reached over to smack his arm, “No, princess. I already got that covered.”

  
“Great, I don’t like the sound of this,” she said worriedly. 

  
Sam tried to reassure her, “Don’t worry, it’s not bad. Trust us.”

  
“Oh, I do, with my life,” she replied, “But when it comes to a chance to embarrass me, I don’t trust you two as far as I can throw you.”

  
Sam snapped his fingers, “Darn, she’s catching on to us.”

  
You finally turned off the car, “All right nerd, let’s go make you look like a hunter.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
The holiday shopping frenzy had yet to hit and since it was the middle of the week, the mall wasn’t too crowded. Sam had quickly left you two to go work on printing up your fake IDs, leaving you and Dean to find a clothing store that would have professional business attire. It took you a few minutes, but you quickly found a suitable establishment and picked out a few jackets, a couple of pencil skirts and slacks as well as several white button down shirts. You knew they would fit, but Dean insisted on having you try them on. 

  
“Hey, I just want to make sure they look and fit good so we don’t have to bring them back here,” he explained. 

  
“Yeah, I ain’t buying that. I think you just want some images for your personal ‘spank bank’,” you retorted from inside the dressing room.

  
You heard him laugh, “Now, would I do that?”

  
You peaked out the door and just stared at him until he answered, “Ok, yeah I would. So, maybe there’s two reasons for you to try on the clothes.”

  
“Dean, you’re a pervert,” you added while closing the door back. 

  
“You knew what you were getting into with me. Now hurry up woman, my hard drive is already booted up and ready to go out here,” and you could just picture him sitting there, staring at the door with that boyish grin of his. 

  
“Thank Chuck there’s no one else in this dressing room or I think we’d be arrested for misconduct.”

  
“Hey, free handcuffs,” he replied. 

  
You took one final look in the mirror to examine your outfit. You had decided to try on a black pencil skirt with a matching jacket and white blouse. You had pulled your hair up into a high ponytail to finish off the look. You had never been the kind to dress up this professional, preferring to live your life in scrubs, graphics tees and pajama pants, but you had to admit that you looked like a real FBI or CIA agent in this wardrobe. You smoothed your skirt and announced, “Ok, I’m coming out. Remember, you have to be honest and let me know how I look.”

  
You slowly opened the dressing room and stood in the doorway, standing straight and trying to look as professional as possible, “So, do I seem like an agent in this get up?”

  
You saw his eyes start at your feet and roam up your legs and torso before stopping to leer at your breasts. 

  
“_I think he approves._”

  
You snapped your fingers to gain his attention. You pointed two fingers at him and then at your eyes, “Dean, up here. This is serious. Will this do?”

  
“Me likey,” he replied huskily as he started to stand from the chair and make his way towards you. Luckily, you had anticipated this movement and quickly stepped back, shutting the door.

  
“What the hell?” you heard him say from the other side, “I wasn’t done downloading that image into my archives.”

  
“Dean, you will have plenty of opportunities to see me in these clothes.”

  
“Yeah, but the first time is always the best,” he responded deeply. 

  
“I’m changing back into my regular clothes now,” you announced, unbuttoning your jacket. 

  
“Tease,” you heard him whisper and watched his feet disappear from below the door, signaling he was retuning to his chair. 

  
You unbuttoned the white blouse, and slid it down your shoulders. But when you went to remove your arms, you realized that you had buttoned the sleeves too tightly around your wrists. This had effectively turned your shirt into a restraint leaving your upper body only covered by the bra you had chosen to wear today, which was a simple, white lace bra with a small pink, satin bow in the middle. 

  
“_God damn it. Shit, shit shit._”

  
You tried to pull and pull, but there was no way you were getting this shirt off by yourself. Your silence and the moving of the flapping fabric must’ve gotten Dean’s attention, “You all right in there?”

  
“_Ok, we have two choices here. We can die of starvation in this dressing room, handcuffed by a blouse or we can have Dean come in and help and ridicule you forever,_” you thought, contemplating your next move. You half heartedly considered staying in the room forever, “_I’ve had a good run, got to hunt with the Winchesters, made out with Dean, let’s quit while we’re ahead._”

  
A firm knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, “Everything ok in there (Y/N)? You got awfully quiet.”

  
You took in a deep breath and sighed, “Dean?”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“I need help,” you whined. 

  
“Do you really, or you just trying to find an excuse to let me in there?”

  
“No, this is serious! I’m stuck in my clothes” you squealed, shaking the fabric for effect. 

  
You heard him chuckle, “Can you open the door?”

  
“I think so,” you said as you turned around and tried to turn the handle with one of your hands. After a few tries, you succeeded and were able to pull the door towards you, allowing him to enter the dressing room. 

  
“All right, Prince Charming to the rescue . . . ,” but he trailed off when he saw you. He looked you over and let his eyes roam across your exposed chest. 

  
You shrugged your shoulders, shaking the blouse behind your back, “Dean, please help. My arms are stuck in my shirt,” you pleaded. 

  
He bit his lip, “Now, why would I want to do a silly think like that, when I have you right where I want you”? He slowly marched over to you and pushed you against the wall. The erupt feeling of the cold wood sent goosebumps down your back and arms, taking your breath away. His chest pressed against you and his hands moved to hold you still by your hips. His presence was just as intoxicating as the first day you kissed him, but somehow, you managed to whisper, “Now, would Prince Charming act like this?”

  
He leaned in laid several kisses along the side of your neck before answering, “Abso-fucking-lutely.” Your chest started to rise and fall unevenly as he made his way down your neck, letting his teeth scrape across your collarbone before he gently bit your shoulder. It was killing you not being able to reach out and pull him closer or run your hands through his hair as his lips laid claimed to your body. He made his away across your other collarbone, nipping and licking every half inch or so until he made his way to your other shoulder. He pulled away and reached up both of his hands to grasp your breasts. You threw your head back as he gently squeezed your nipples through the thin fabric, causing you to utter a small, “Dean.” 

  
He continued to stare at your breasts, when he suddenly noted, “Well, lookey here. You have a freckle right in the middle of your chest.” 

  
You peeked down and answered breathlessly, “Hmm, guess I never noticed.”

  
He smirked and planted a chaste kiss on the freckle and you felt absolutely adored by him in that moment. “_He sure pays attention to the small details._”

  
A knock on the door and a female voice startled you, “Ma’am, sir, this is not a motel. If you are not out of there in two minutes, I’m calling security.”

  
Dean shrugged his shoulders while you answered, “I’m sorry, I got stuck in my shirt. He was just helping me out of it.”

  
You heard her respond sarcastically, “Ok, yeah. Two minutes. I’ve called before and I’ll call again.”

  
“Ok, come on Dean, get me out of this shirt,” you said, managing to turn around so he could undo the buttons at your wrists. 

  
“Not too late to get those free handcuffs,” he quipped as he started to unbutton the sleeves.

  
“You’re incorrigible.”

  
“Nah, look at me,” he said pulling off your shirt in a flourish, “I’m a fucking white knight up in this bitch.”

  
You turned and grabbed the shirt from him to cover yourself up. You opened the door and gently pushed him out, “Sure you are. Go on now, I gotta finish getting dressed.”

  
A few minutes later you exited the room with your pile of clothing and blushed when the employee rang up your purchases. You also stopped in a shoe store and quickly picked up another pair of boots and a couple pair of heels, as well as another boutique to pick up a couple of warm flannels for you to add to your wardrobe, despite Dean’s insistence that you could wear his. You managed to convince him that you needed some of your own by pointing out that if your clothes fit better, it’d made it harder for enemies to grab you.

  
However, you were still slightly uncomfortable with him paying for everything, “Dean, are you sure it’s OK to be getting all of this?”

  
“Sweetheart, you have to stop worrying about the money. But, if it’ll make you feel better, I can get Sam to cook you up a few cards for you,” he offered. 

  
“You really are determined to turn me into a felon and get me arrested huh?”

  
“I think you’d look good in an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs,” he said with a wink. 

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

The two of you had made your way back to the food court, agreeing to meet Sam at two o’clock. However, after neither of you were able to spot him in the crowd, you offered to grab a little snack. 

  
“Thanks, mall food is definitely its own food group,” she had replied while snaking the arm that wasn’t holding her purchases around your waist underneath your black, leather jacket. You had offered to carry her bags, but she insisted that if you bought them, she carry them. 

  
“Exactly,” you said in agreement.

  
You made your way to a pretzel stand, “Order whatever your like, babe.”

  
She smiled at the cashier, “Can I please get some pretzel bites with cheese and a cherry Icee?”

  
“And for you, sir?” the cashier asked turning to you. 

  
“I will actually take the same thing but make it a blueberry Icee instead.”

  
She quirked an eyebrow up at you as you reached for your wallet to pay for the snacks and teased, “You know, you don’t have to order exactly what I get all the time.”

  
You paid and made your way down to the counter to wait for your food, “Hey, I get this every time we have to come here, which isn’t very often. It’s my reward for putting up with this place.”

  
“Do you really?” she asked in disbelief. 

  
“Yup. And Sammy isn’t here to give me grief about it this time.”

  
“Why would he do that? It’s because it’s not green or grown in a garden, right?”

  
This made you chuckle, “No, he says it’s too weird of a combination.”

  
“Seriously? The pretzels are salty and the drink is sweet. It’s a perfect combo, especially at the mall where you’re obligated to consume as many calories as possible.”

  
“My point exactly!” you exclaimed, throwing a hand up in the air. 

  
“He just doesn’t have as sophisticated a palate as us, I guess.”

  
“Nope, definitely not,” you replied before reaching down and giving her a kiss, letting your tongue skim across her bottom lip. 

  
When your food was ready, the two of you made your way over to a bench in the middle of the food court. Some employees were setting up a stage and there was a sign advertising to “Win big here at 2:00pm!”

  
She dipped a pretzel bite into her cheese and took a big bite, “Wonder what that’s all about.”

  
“Probably a scam. If it’s too good to be true, you know it is, especially in my life.”

  
“Well, you’ve been through a lot. Surely some things are bound to change,” she said with a smile. You noticed a small dollop of cheese on the corner of her mouth and leaned down to lick it away.

  
“Dean!” she squealed, but did nothing to stop you from licking the corner of her lip. 

  
Suddenly, you felt water on the back of your head and saw she had also been hit with the spray. “_Who in the hell?_”

  
You turned around and saw Sam standing there, laughing, “Told you I was gonna buy one of these,” he said shaking the spray bottle in his hand. 

  
You were ready to stand up and knock him on his ass there in the middle of the mall, when you felt her hand cup your face, “And we told you it wouldn’t work,” she replied while pulling you in for a deep kiss. You could feel several more sprays of water, but the two of your just laughed and continued to make out. Sam eventually gave up and came to sit on the other side of her. She took a few napkins out of the bag that had held your food and tried to dab as much water off of you and herself as she could

  
“Sam, don’t be such stick in the mud,” you said.

  
He ignored you and turned to her, “Did he convince you to try his famous ‘sweet and salty mall surprise’?” he asked, pointing to her drink and almost empty cup of pretzels. 

  
“Actually, Samuel, I ordered first. I had no idea that this was his favorite,” she answered. 

  
“Samuel?” he asked incredulously. 

  
“Yep,” she said taking a big gulp of her Icee, “You insult the mall food, you get called by your proper name.”

  
Sam reached over with his hand and started to give her a noogie. She immediately tried to wriggle out of his grasp. When she was unsuccessful, she called out to you for help, “Dean, make him stop!”

  
“Oh, now you need back up huh?” Sam asked with a grin, continuing his friendly assault on her head.

  
You just stared at the two of them fighting like a brother and sister would. It warmed your heart to see Sam lighten up and not be so serious for once. After a few more seconds, you finally stepped in, “All right kids, knock it off or I’m turning the car around.”

  
Your attention was pulled to the stage in the center of the food court as feedback echoed across the room. A middle aged man with a top hat and suit had taken the stage, “Good afternoon ladies and gentleman! Now, as part of promotions to get more people to come out to the mall in the middle of the week, we bring to you our next edition of ‘Wacky Wednesday Warbling’.”

  
The three of you turned to each other with an eyebrow raised. You started to get up, “Ok, I think it’s time to go,” but she grabbed your arm and pulled you back down. She was staring at the stage in curiosity, “Hold on, I wanna see what this is all about.”

  
The MC continued, “Today, we are going to give anyone in this mall a chance to win dinner for two at the city’s most famous steakhouse, a prize valued at two hundred dollars,” he announced with a flourish. “Now, all you have to do is come up here, sing a little song and if the crowd likes you enough, you win! So, who wants to go first?”

  
“See,” you said softly elbowing her in the side, “too good to be true. Ready to go now?”

  
“Hold up, let’s just see if anyone wins,”she requested. 

  
You looked to Sam for backup, but he just shrugged his shoulders, “It’s not like we have anywhere else to be.”

  
“Fine, but I’m going to get more pretzel bites,” you replied. 

  
Fifteen minutes passed and while you finished off another cup of your favorite salty snack, three people had tried and failed to win the “grand prize”. They had given lackluster performances of some of today’s most popular songs, earning sporadic claps from the audience. 

  
“Come on, anyone else wanna give it a shot?” the announcer asked.

  
“I will!” you heard a voice to your right scream. You were shocked to see she had raised her arm and was beaming ear to ear.

  
“What are you doing?” you hissed.

  
“I’m going to go win a free dinner. Besides, no one knows me here and I won’t see these people again. What’s there to lose?”

  
“Your dignity?” you responded incredulously. 

“Nah, it’ll still be intact,” she answered with a wink and made her way towards the stage. 

  
“I can’t believe she’s really going to embarrass herself like this,” you said to Sam.

  
“You know, I would be shocked too, but I’m starting to learn to never underestimate her,” he replied. 

  
When she made her way to the center of the stage, the announcer asked, “Ok, little lady, what’s your name?”

  
“My name is (Y/N) and I’m here to win some free food!” she yelled, pumping one fist into the air. 

  
“Ok, Ok darling. You got a song picked out?”

  
“I sure do,” she said with a mysterious smile and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

  
The announcer grinned at her, “You might have a winner there. Ok, show us what you got little lady,” he said handing over the mic. 

  
If she was nervous, you couldn’t tell it as she stood boldly in the middle of the stage. “Gosh, it’s probably going to be some Taylor Swift ballad or boy band bullshit. I feel bad for the poor girl,” you said, smacking Sam on the shoulder. 

  
However, you were absolutely stunned when she started to sing:

  
_Carry on my wayward son_

_There’ll be peace when you are done_

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don’t you cry no more_

  
As she finished the last words, you noticed several people look up with interest from their food. She was walking back and forth across the stage, pretending to play the drums and pointing to various patrons, urging them to stand up and come over to enjoy the show in front of the stage. A few were actually pulled into her ploy and made their way over to stage. 

  
Soon, she had made her way to the end of the first verse and was singing, “I hear the voices when I’m dreaming. I can hear them say,” but before she belted out the chorus, she yelled to the audience, “Come on! If you know it, sing it with me Kansas!”

_Carry on my wayward son_

_There’ll be peace when you are done_

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don’t you cry no more_

  
You were surprised that quite a few people had joined in this time. 

  
“Whooo! Come on, Kansas! I can’t hear you. If you’re walking around out there in the mall, get over here and join me!” she demanded before jumping into the next verse. 

  
Your eyes were wide and you looked over to see Sam staring at her mouth agape, “Holy shit!” he said in disbelief. “Right?” you responded, “Where the hell did that come from?”

  
She made her way around to the chorus again and a large crowd had now gathered around the stage. You were in utter shock to hear dozens of voices join her as she belted out the chorus again. 

_Carry on my wayward son_

_There’ll be peace when you are done_

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don’t you cry no more_

  
She threw down the mic and started playing the air guitar with vigor. She threw her hair back and forth and even rolled around the stage a few times, really getting into the music. By the time the chorus came around for the final time, you and Sam found yourself joining in with the crowd and the sound was deafening. She finished off her performance with a flourish, pretending to smash her air guitar on the ground, throwing her arms above her head, making the ‘rock n’ roll’ signal with her hands and sticking out her tongue. The crowd cheered and clapped for a full two minutes after she had finished. 

She was breathing hard, utterly exhausted when she finally dropped her arms back down to her sides. The announcer came back to the stage, “Well, little darling, that was quite a show! What do you think people. Think she earned a free dinner?” The crowd erupted again and you let out a high pitched whistle. You could see her blush at the attention and overwhelming support from the crowd. The announcer continued, “Ok, well here you go (Y/N), a certificate for dinner for two. Any idea who you’re taking with you?”

  
You saw her look through the crowd and find you, “I’ve got somebody in mind, but he better be nice or I might just take his brother instead,” she said with a wink, earning “_oooooohhhhhhhhs_” from the crowd. 

  
You bit your lip as Sam slapped your arm, “Damn Dean, what have we gotten ourselves into?”

  
“I don’t know,” you answered, “but I think it’s going to be a hell of a ride.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments give me inspiration and the warm fuzzies! Hopefully this doens’t make the story feel like it’s dragging, but I really want to build their relationship. Some serious action is going to be coming up in the next few chapters though!


	18. Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You begin your hunter training with the Winchester brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read my story! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“Holy shit! I still can’t believe I did that,” you said mostly to yourself from your seat in the back of the Impala. 

  
“Yeah, I think Sam and I are still in shock over that wild ass concert you put on,” Dean added, looking at you in awe in the rear view mirror. 

  
After claiming your prize, you had quickly exited the stage, gathered up the boys and ushered them out of the mall. Some people stopped to ask you for a picture or to congratulate you, but the realization of what you did hit you and you had suddenly needed to be out of that crowd. Dean could see you were becoming anxious and had helped to quickly extradite you from the chaos and make it safely back to Baby. 

  
“I just thought that if I put a lot of showmanship and bravado into it that I would win. I didn’t really expect that many people to join in!” you admitted. 

  
“Well, for once, your music choice was spot on,” Dean said teasingly. 

  
“I am thoroughly impressed. I didn’t think you had something like that in you, kid,” Sam added.

  
“Me either,” Dean noted. 

  
“Well, don’t expect that too often. In fact, probably never again,” you replied, sighing heavily and shaking your head.

  
“In our lives, never say never,” Dean countered. 

  
A few minutes passed in silence as you tried to come down from your performance high and just relax and enjoy the ride across the Kansas flatlands, back towards the bunker. Then, a thought occurred to you, “Hey Sam, you never did show me my IDs. I wanna see what alias you two knuckleheads concocted for me.”

  
Sam reached down and grabbed a bag that was sitting on the floor in front of him. He handed it back to you and it was filled with IDs that would introduce you as part of the FBI, CIA, CDC, the county coroner’s office, fish and wildlife and a few other government agencies. You looked at the name in curiosity and flicked your gaze up to Dean who was staring back expectantly at you. 

  
“Ok, I’m sort of familiar with the major names of classic rock, but who in the world is ‘Taylor Dren’?” you asked. 

  
Sam chortled and Dean snickered before answering, “Well (Y/N), you did say that you liked Taylor Swift and I picked out that last name special, just for you.”

  


  
He and Sam looked at each other like they were sharing an inside secret. 

  
“Dren? Dren? Dren?” you repeated over and over, “It doesn’t ring a bell.”

  
Dean was obviously not going to answer you, so Sam chimed in, “Try looking at it backwards.”

  
You looked back down at the name and realization hit you. They both started laughing and you playfully smacked both of them on the back of the head, “Nerd?! Really guys? I hate both of you, I hope you know that.”

  
“Hey, it was his idea,” Sam said pointing at Dean.

  
“Yeah, but you went along with it Sam!” you cried out.

  
He shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, well, he paid me fifty bucks.”

  
You gasped and Dean chimed in, “And the look on your face is totally worth it.”

  
“Well, fine, guess I’m going by myself to this steak dinner because both of you are dead to me,” you said, leaning back and crossing your arms. 

  
“Aww come on sweetheart, don’t be that way. It’s a little funny,” Dean said.

  
You turned your gaze away, “Maybe I’ll take your mother and we’ll have a girls night out. Sam, I expected more from you.”

  
“You shouldn’t,” Sam stated with a mischievous grin. 

  
After you arrived back at the bunker you went to put your new clothes away in your room before returning to the war room. Sam had settled into the library to research possible cases and Dean offered to give you a night of cooking off by running back into town for a chicken meal. 

  
“Dean, original recipe this time! It’s my turn to pick,” Sam reminded Dean as he made his way towards the exit. 

  
“Really, Sam? It’s gotta be spicy and crispy to be good,” you retorted from the war room table where you had started to sort through the Christmas decorations that had been all but forgotten. 

  
Dean gasped, “Oooh, hell yeah! I agree. Two to one Sam, crispy chicken it is!”

  


  
Sam scoffed, “Seriously?”

  
“Hey health nut, you’re probably going to end up picking off the skin, so what do you care?” you retorted. 

  
“He does!” Dean said angrily before leaving, “He totally does that and it’s bullshit! Crispy chicken from now on!” 

  
Sam was looking at you, shaking his head. You just smiled and looked back to your table of instruments to spread holiday cheer. 

  
Forty five minutes later, Dean arrived back with dinner and you were thoroughly pleased with your progress. You had placed a mini tree in each of your rooms, choosing to make sure Dean had a red tree with green ornaments while you had a green tree with red ornaments in your room. Sam had been bestowed a green tree as well, but his was covered with various colored ornaments. The last one was for the war room table and you had decided that a white tree with silver and gold decorations would be best for the main tree. There were Christmas lights and garland strung around the railings of the crow’s nest and around the pillars of the library as well as several wreaths placed along various doors in the bunker.

  
“Looks like Jack Frost threw up in here,” Dean commented when he returned, just as you were finishing decorating the tree on the war room table. He started to climb down the stairs from the entrance, “Do you think you went a little overboard here princess?”

  
“Hey, I could’ve added a lot more, but I figured I would ease you boys into the Christmas spirit slowly,” you said, making your way over to give him a quick kiss and help carry the food into the kitchen. 

  
Dean stopped in his tracks and stared at the top of the tree on the war room table, “Is that . . . ?”

  
You snickered, “Yep, that is a picture of Castiel. We have an actual angel on the tree. Turns out you all do take a few pictures now and then. When I told Sam my idea, he helped me to find a good photo and print it out.”

  
“Ha! Cas is gonna be so confused! I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

  
Sam still had no leads on a possible hunt, so he finally closed his laptop and joined the two of you for dinner. About halfway through the meal, Dean started questioning you, “So babe, what would be going on right now if you were back in your reality watching us like a voyeur?”

  
“Dean, you make it sound so dirty,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

  
“You have that influence over me I guess,” he said with a side grin. 

  
“Guys, I swear to God I will get a spray bottle for every room,” Sam said warningly. 

  
You gave Sam a small smile and felt comforted by Dean’s gentle touch on your knee, “Well, let me see here,” you stalled, trying to make up a story. In reality, you knew Vince Vincent may be popping up soon and then eventually taking over the President and impregnating Kelly Kline with Jack. 

  
“_Well we can’t tell them that!_”

  
“_I know that! What, do you think I’m stupid?_”

  
“_Well, what are we supposed to tell them?_”

  
“_Well if you shut up and give me a minute I’ll think of something!_”

  
“Everything ok, princess?” Dean asked before shoveling in another bite of mashed potatoes. 

  
“Yeah, just trying to sort through what I know and put it into chronological order,” you explained as your two inner voices argued with one another, “I think that after the Asa Fox incidence, there were just several weeks where you guys were investigating various cases all across the country. There was a vampire nest, a couple of ghouls and a trickster, a real one this time. But, in reality, it was Crowley keeping you all busy so you wouldn’t pay much attention to how many angels were dying. Eventually though, Cas reached out and let you know what was going on. But, since Crowley doesn’t seem to be doing that, who know’s what’s going to happen over the next couple of months,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. 

  
Dean and Sam had been listening to you intently and nodded along as you spoke. 

  
“So, basically you don’t know squat about anything that’s going to happen until next year, right?” Dean asked. 

  
“Yeah, sorry. Looks like I’m not going to be much use for a while,” you replied. 

  
“Damn, think we should keep her around Sammy?” Dean questioned while gently squeezing your knee. 

  
“Hey!” you shouted as you playfully smacked Dean on the back of the head. 

  
Sam laughed, “She seems to be keeping you in check and she is a pretty good cook, so I vote she stays.”

  
“I guess you’re right. After all, sounds like she’ll be of some use . . . eventually,” Dean added with a wink. 

  
“So, what do we do until then? Keep an eye out for Lucifer and random hunts?” you questioned while taking a bite of chicken. 

  
Dean let out a smile chuckle, “We will be doing that, not you. The Asa hunt was a one time thing. I think we need to use the down time to see how much of a hunter you can be and get you trained up on the basics.”

  
“Winchester, I am going to be of use while I’m here. I’m not the little woman that just stays back while you two go out and do the work,” you said pointing back and forth between him and Sam. 

  
Sam could tell that a fight was coming, so he quickly intervened, “Hey, guys! Guys! (Y/N), what if we start your training tomorrow. You need to learn hand to hand combat, shooting, probably read up on lore that you don’t already know and learn some computer hacking skills. Then, when I feel like you’re ready, you go. This way, I can be unbiased in the decision.”

  
You and Dean stared at each other for several seconds before he answered, “I’ll agree if you do.”

  
“Fine,” you mumbled. 

  
“Ok,” Sam said, “It’s settled.”

  
“But, I have one condition,” you said looking pointedly at Dean, “You cannot train me. I don’t think you’ll go hard enough on me. I want Sam to teach me how to fight and then, when I’m up to snuff, I’ll take you on, just to prove I’m really ready to hunt.”

  
Dean scoffed, “Take me on and win? Please princess, that’s really never gonna happen.”

  
You gave him a smug smile, “We’ll see about that. If you want to teach me to shoot and computer hacking, then you can. That OK with you Sam?”

  
“It’s fine by me,” Sam said shrugging his shoulders. 

  
“All right, it’s settled. Dean, I am so going to wipe the floor with you,” you said, faking confidence. You knew he was a hell of a fighter, but he was just so smug, you didn’t want to back down to him.

  
Dean just rolled his eyes and returned his focus to his food. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
After dinner, you all decided to relax and have a movie night. Usually, you and Sam took turns deciding on the film, but since she was here, she suggested “rock, paper, scissors” and you jumped at the chance to play. You were taken out in the first round, but then she ended up winning against Sam. 

  
“Great,” you groaned as you put away the leftovers from dinner in the fridge, “We’re gonna have to watch some lame ass chick flick or ninety minutes of romantic angst.”

  
“Hey, you don’t know what I’m going to pick, so shut it. If I want to pick something like that, I will. I won fair and square over all,” she said as she finished up drying the dishes. 

  
“I don’t know why I agreed to ‘rock, paper, scissors’ again. I always lose.”

  
“That’s because you always pick scissors idjit,” she explained.

  
You paused and tried to remember all the games you had played before, “No I don’t. Do I?”

  
Sam lightly chuckled, “Yeah, you do Dean. You make it too easy.”

  
“Son of a bitch. How did I never notice that,” you wondered aloud while heading to the pantry for popcorn. 

  
“I think it’s because you’re secretly telling Sam he needs to get a haircut,” she added, amusement lighting up her eyes. 

  
Sam smacked her playfully on the shoulder, “Hey, my hair is fine! Dean, what are you doing?”

  
You held up the box of microwave ready popcorn, “It’s movie night Sam. Movie night equals popcorn.”

  
Sam raised his eyebrows at you, “Really Dean? You just ate like two whole chickens and a pound of potatoes. Do you really want popcorn now?”

  
Before you could reply, she interjected, “Sam, movie equals popcorn. Even if you’re not hungry for popcorn, you have to have popcorn. It’s like an unwritten rule.”

  
You snapped your fingers and pointed to her, “Exactly! She gets it!” 

  
“You two are weird,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head. 

  
She looked to you and gave you a wink as you beamed back at her and you couldn’t help but to feel another brick of your emotional wall crumble to the ground. 

  
After popping three bags of popcorn, you headed toward the living room with beers for you and Sam and a wine cooler for her. You and Sam settled in on opposite ends of the couch while she loaded up the DVD she had picked out. 

  
“I was expecting the ‘Cave of Deanatude’. I didn’t realize you had an actual living room,” she wondered aloud.

  
You took a swig of your beer, “How do you know about that? Wait, I shouldn’t even be surprised.”

  
She turned around and trotted back to the couch, taking a seat in the middle and cuddling up next to you, “Exactly. I know all,” she said mockingly waving her hands around in the air.

  
“All right, what fresh hell are we going to be subjected to tonight?” Sam asked.

  
She took a handful of popcorn from her bag and tossed it at him, “Quit giving me crap about my movie choices, Sam.”

  
You laughed and she threw a handful of popcorn at you, “You too, jackass. I could’ve picked something extremely torturous from Netflix to make you two sit through, but I have taken pity on your poor, unfortunate souls and picked out a DVD from your collection. So, I know you all will like it.” She held up the remote and finally hit play from the disc’s main menu.

  
“Seriously? You’re OK with watching this?” Sam asked.

  
“Uh yeah, it’s a fuckin’ classic Sam. I LOVE this movie!”

  
You stared at the screen then looked back to her, “Really? You like ‘_Casino_’?”

  
“Uh, duh! Robert De Niro, Jo Pesci, Sharon Stone and so many more great actors. It’s great! I love watching this and then ‘_Goodfellas_’, which I happened to notice you two have as well. Maybe we can turn it into a double feature?” she asked hopefully. 

  
“_Well, who’d have thought she liked these gangster movies as well._”

  
You softly smiled at her as Sam spoke up, “Maybe. Can’t stay up too late. I’m expecting you in the gym at eight sharp.”

  
She groaned, “Fine, fine,” before snuggling in closer to you. You wrapped your arm around her and sat your beer in between your legs so you could snack on your own bag of popcorn. An hour into the movie, you heard soft snores coming from her direction. You looked and saw that she was fast asleep, mouth agape. You reached over and tapped Sam on the shoulder and pointed to her. He shook his head and chuckled quietly. You looked to her and then nodded to the door, indicating you were going to take her to bed. You gently lifted her off your shoulder and scooped her up into your arms with little protest from her. 

  
When you reached your room, you were taken aback by the small Christmas tree she had obviously set up earlier. You couldn’t help but to notice that she had picked out a red tree, your favorite color, and decorated it with green decorations, her favorite color. 

  
“_There’s the girly side of her coming out_,” you thought with affection. 

  
You tucked her in and set an alarm on your phone for 7:00am. When you climbed in next to her, she immediately melded against your body. You were shocked how the two of you had settled into a nighttime routine. You had never been involved with a woman this long and not slept with her. But for some reason, you didn’t feel a need to rush things with her. You were enjoying the build up and knew that when it did happen, she’d be worth the wait. 

  
You pulled her close against you and whispered in her ear, “Night, princess,” before giving her a kiss on her shoulder. Within minutes, you were sound asleep. 

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
A shrill alarm was suddenly blasting in your ears, shocking you awake. You immediately flailed around and felt your elbow connect with hard flesh behind you. 

  
“Ow! Son of a bitch,” you heard Dean groan as he gripped his ribs. 

  
You assessed your surroundings and realized that you must’ve fallen asleep during the movie last night and had somehow made it to bed with Dean. You turned around as Dean continued to grumble and moan.

  
“Damn, sweetheart. Hell of a wake up call there.”

  
“Sorry, I was caught off guard by the alarm,” you said eyeing his chest, “Are you ok?”

  
He gave you a weak smile as he grabbed his phone to turn off the alarm, “Well, it doesn’t feel too good to have an elbow shoved into your ribs, but I think I’ll be ok.”

  
You turned to face him, placed a hand on the side of his face and gave him a slow, tender kiss, “That make it better?”

  
His eyes lit up and he looked mischievously at you, “I don’t know nurse, I think I need another dose.”

  
You leaned in again and gave him another kiss, this one a little more heated. You let your tongue skim his lower lip and he parted his lips so you could dip your tongue into his mouth. He still tasted like popcorn and you heard him moan deep in his chest as your tongue glided over his. After a few minutes of lazily making out, you pulled back, “How’s that?”

  
He licked his lips, “All better now, I think.”

  
“So, what time is it anyway?”

  
“Well, I set the alarm for seven. I figured you’d want some time to eat breakfast or take a shower before you start your training.”

  
“Yeah, a shower and a quick bite to eat will probably do me good before heading into the ring with Sam. What are you going to do all day, lazy bones?” you asked as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. 

  
“I’ll probably look for cases or for Lucifer. After lunch you’re doing shooting practice with me and then I’m going to teach you some basic computer hacking.”

  
“Sounds good. Ok, well, I’m going to go get ready. Don’t want to be late for my first day of school,” you said with mocked worry.

  
“Oh yeah,” Dean added grabbing your ass, “I hear one of your teachers is a definite hard ass.”

  
“Do you mean jackass?”

  
“Either way, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.”

  
You ran your hand down his chest, “Oh, but maybe I do.”

  
He closed his eyes and clicked his tongue, “Damn girl, you have a way with words.”

  
“Well, don’t get too worked up Dean,” you said pushing out of bed and earning a whimper from him, “We’ve got serious work to do. I intend on hunting with you, despite your objections, and I’m going to prove I can hold my own.”

  
“Ok, princess, let’s see what you got.”

  
After a shower, two cups of coffee and two bowls of cereal, you finally made your way to the gym to meet up with Sam. You had decided on some black leggings and tank top for today’s outfit. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail and you had your most sturdy tennis shoes laced up snugly. When you entered the gym, you could see Sam was already waiting for you. 

  
“Hey Sam,” you cheerfully greeted him.

  
“Hey (Y/N), ready to get started?” 

  
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sighed. 

  
He made his way over to you and gave you a small hug, “Don’t worry, we’re going to take it slow today. I want to start off by sparring with you and see how much you know. Have you ever had any formal fight or combat training?

  
“Uh, I took karate for a few weeks when I was ten.”

  
“So, then no?”

  
“No, not really,” you answered with a laugh. 

  
“Ok, well, let’s go over to the mats and we’ll get started. Basically, I’m going to try and attack you and I want you to do your best to block me and hit me back.”

  
“So, fight off someone who is a foot taller than me, weighs more than me and has thirty years of hunter experience. Easy peasy,” you said sarcastically. 

  
“Exactly. No big deal,” he added with a wink. 

  
The two of you made your way over to the mats and he instructed you on how to hold your hands up in front of you in a defensive position. 

  
“Don’t go easy on me, Sam. I don’t care what Dean has said, I want you to give me all you got, understand?”

  
“Yes, ma’am,” he said seriously. 

  
The two of you circled each other a few times and Sam threw a few punches, but, it was like you could tell they were coming and you were able to dodge them quickly. He tried to throw a right hook, but you evaded that. He quickly swept one of his feet towards you, trying to knock you off balance, but you quickly jumped back and threw a punch at him, connecting with his jaw. You both were taken aback, but kept going. Sam reared back his arm to throw a hard, right jab, but you dodged it, grabbed his wrist and used his momentum to knock him to the ground. You pulled his arm up behind him, placed a knee in the middle of his back to hold him down and held his wrist locked in between your two hands. Sam was completely immobile and at your mercy. 

  
“Holy shit,” you gasped.

  
“Holy, shit (Y/N)!” Sam said, turning his head to look at you, “Where did that come from?”

  
“I have no fucking idea! It’s like, something inside of me just told me what to do.”

  
“Can, can you let me go? My wrist is starting to hurt,” he groaned. 

  
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” you apologized as you released him from your hold. 

  
He quickly popped up and tried to knock you to the ground, but you used his momentum against him once again and soon had him in a headlock, “Give up Sam?”

  
“Never. We’re just getting started,” he strained out between choked breaths. 

  
A few hours passed like this. For the most part, you were able to avoid any attacks and you found out that Sam was really holding back at first. His jabs and attacks came at you faster and harder, but you were able to evade him for the most part. You did get a couple of bruises on your face, scratches on your body and even earned a split lip, which Sam adamantly apologized for, but you told him it would only help you learn. 

  
A little after noon, the two of you finally quit for the day so you could grab some lunch before Dean’s afternoon training sessions. You made your way to the kitchen to grab a quick sandwich and saw Dean was already waiting for you with lunch. He had his back turned to you, “Well, how was this morning? Ready to throw in the towel . . . ,” but his voice trailed off when he turned and saw your wounds, “What the hell?!” he yelled as he made his way over to examine your face. 

  
His hand was gripping your chin, turning your face side to side as you tried to explain, “Dean, I’m fine, really. I told Sam not to go easy on me.”

  
His breathing was hard and fast as he finally released you, “Yeah, well it was your first time fighting and I told him not to go hard on you. It looks like you’ve been beat up.”

  
“Isn’t that kind of the point Dean? I mean, if I was fighting a ghoul or a shapeshifter, they wouldn’t go easy on me. Besides, you should see Sam,” you added with a chuckle. 

  
It was at that moment that Sam finally made it to the kitchen. You weren’t lying, Sam had several bruises and cuts on his faces as well as a split lip of his own. Dean gawked at his brother, “Sam, I told you to go easy on her, but you didn’t have to let her kick your ass.”

  
“Ha ha ha Dean, very funny,” Sam said as he made his way over to the refrigerator, “Believe me, I didn’t. She’s really good.”

  
Dean looked back to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, “Really? We’re you hustling us, princess? Are you really a Kung fu master ninja?”

  
You rubbed your hands up and down his arms slowly, “I am so not that. But, it was really weird. It’s like, I could tell what punches were coming and something inside me just told me how to evade his attack or take him down.”

  
Sam took a big swig from the water bottle he had grabbed from the fridge, “Maybe you really are psychic.”

  
You shrugged your shoulders, “Or maybe whatever brought me here knew I’d need to be fighting ready and gave me an edge up on the competition. Either way, it’s pretty comforting to know I’m not completely defenseless. Why Dean, I bet I could already take you down.”

  
“Heh, well special abilities or not, you’re going to train for at least a week before you go hunting,” Dean said. 

  
“Nu uh uh, that’s not up to you, remember?” you said with a small smile. 

  
Sam came over and patted you on the shoulder, “Listen, you were really good today, but there’s still a lot to teach you.”

  
“I know, I was just messing with Dean,” you replied. 

  
“Good. Well, I’m going to shower and research I guess. I’ll see you guys later,” Sam said as he made his way out of the kitchen. 

  
You looked back to Dean, “So, you made me lunch?”

  
“I did, I thought that you’d need a pick me up after getting your ass kicked, but I can see that’s not exactly the case.”

  
“Ye of little faith,” you replied as you leaned up to give him a kiss. But, as soon as your lips met his, you felt a sharp sting and immediately withdrew, sucking in your breath in between your teeth, “Damn! Forgot about my lip.”

  
Dean smirked and then leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead, “Yeah, that’s gonna smart for a few days. Just try not to smile too big and it should heal quickly.”

  
“Thanks for the advice, captain.”

  
“Anytime little soldier,” he added while dropping his hands and leading you to the table, “Ok, let’s eat and then we’ll head out to the shooting range.

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
You had to admit, when she walked into the kitchen after her training session with Sam, you had been slightly worried for a minute, and then strangely and radically turned on. You thought she was beautiful before, but something about the way she held herself confidently, despite her bruises and cuts, was fucking hot. It was like, nothing could keep this girl down, and you knew that would be a quality that would help keep her alive in your world. She let you clean her cuts and scratches after lunch and now the two of you were making your way down to the gun range, with your arm draped across her shoulders and her arm wrapped behind your back underneath the green button up shirt you had chosen to wear today. 

  
“I had no idea you all had such a nice training facility here. But, I guess being the Men of Letter’s bunker, nothing should surprise me. I mean, I knew about the range, but it’s just so much more than what I saw,” she said, pulling you a little closer to her.

  
“They really leave a lot of details out in the show huh?”

  
“Well, they only have forty-ish minutes to cover a story every week, so I’m guessing the details of the bunker’s layout don’t take precedence.”

  
Once you arrived at the range, you quickly made your way over to a table with some basic guns and showed her how to take them apart and load a clip. She caught on surprisingly quickly, despite her claims that she had only taken one shooting class ten years ago. You grabbed a 9mm semi automatic gun and led her over to one of the booths where you had set up a target earlier that morning. 

  
“Ok, we’re ready for some target practice,” you said, laying the gun down on the countertop. “Pick up the gun, but put your dominant hand over the handle first and then wrap your other hand over top of that.”

  
She followed your instructions, but immediately placed her index finger on the trigger. You stopped her, saying, “Now, now, wait. Place your trigger finger along the barrel of the gun unless you’re ready to fire.”

  
She moved her finger to the side of the gun, “Got it. Don’t touch the trigger unless I’m ready to shoot.”

  
“Exactly,” you confirmed, stepping up behind her and pulling her against you, “Now, spread your legs until they’re about hip-width apart, but make sure to keep your knees bent.” You reached up and grabbed her arms, “Hold your arms out straight, but don’t lock your elbows. Relax your shoulders.” You could feel her leaning forwards too far, so you reached up and placed a hand on her stomach, “Stand up straight, don’t lean too far forward.”

  
You felt her shiver at the contact and you couldn’t help but to feel the bulge in your pants start to rub against her ass. You took a quick breath and tried to focus on the task at hand, “Now, when you set up your aim, don’t close your eyes. You want to keep both eyes open and align the sight with your target. When you’re ready, hold the gun tight and squeeze, don’t pull, the trigger. It’s going to be loud and there’s going to be kickback, so be prepared.”

  
You let her hands drift down to her hips and held her tightly in place, “Ready when you are princess. Now, aim for the target’s head.”

  
You could feel the nervous energy radiating off of her in waves and she was taking big deep breaths to try and calm herself. You rubbed your thumbs in small circles on the back of her hips, “It’s ok, I don’t expect you to actually hit the target the first time.”

  
You felt her stiffen under your touch and there was a sudden *BANG* as she took her first shot. It caught you off guard, but after a few seconds, she turned her head toward you and nodded towards the target, “You were saying, smartass,” she said with a wide grin. You looked towards the target and saw she had hit it dead in between the eyes. 

You scoffed, not wanting to give away how impressed you actually were, “Lucky shot rookie. Bet you can’t do that again.”

  
“Oh yeah,” she said turning back to the target. She let off a couple of quick shots and landed not only two more hits to the head, but three to the heart as well. 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. I thought you said you didn’t know how to shoot,” you gawked, your eyes widened in disbelief. 

  
“I don’t! But, it’s just coming to me naturally,” she replied excitedly.

  
“Well damn, let’s keep going then and see how good you really are.”

  
For the next two hours, you moved the target back and forth, side to side and even tried to distract her by rubbing up against her, whispering in her ear and kissing her along her neck while she tried to shoot. But still, her aim was spot on every time. After shooting practice, you spent the next few hours in the library with her and Sam, showing her the basics of how to hack into various databases. When you could tell her brain was fried, you offered to go pick up some pizzas for dinner. That night, the two of you laid in bed side by side while she read up on Native American folklore and you continued to research for signs of Lucifer. She eventually fell asleep with the book in her hands, so you removed it and tucked her in before turning off the light. 

  
As you pulled her back to your chest, you reflected over today’s events and couldn’t help but to still be impressed at this woman who had literally dropped out of the sky. She truly was one of a kind. The next week carried on much of the same way. Her training was going well, but she was so exhausted at the end of the day, she could barely keep her eyes open after dinner. There were no new cases and no signs of Lucifer, so the three of you just focused on her training. But then, on the ninth day of radio silence, you finally heard from Cas. 

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You and Sam had just finished up your morning training session and were heading to the kitchen for lunch, per your usual routine for the past week. Sam had an arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you in for a side hug, “A few more days and I think you’ll be ready to take on Dean and join us. You’ve really caught on quick, for a nerd.”

  
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Sam.”

  
You two rounded the corner and saw Dean sitting in the library, playing on his phone. You left Sam’s embrace and made your way behind Dean. You leaned over and wrapped your arms around his neck, snaking them down his chest. 

  
“Ew woman, you’re all sweaty!” he groaned, half heartedly shaking you away.

  
“Yeah, yeah, you love it,” you said kissing his cheek and continuing to leisurely rub your hands up and down his chest, “So what are you doing while Sam has been teaching me how to kick your ass?” That’s when you caught sight of the screen and saw he was playing ‘_Words with Friends_’ with his mother. “_Oh no, I remember this scene. Shit, Lucifer is back_,” you thought to yourself, trying to remain calm. 

  
He looked slightly embarrassed, “Oh nothing, just playing this game,” he explained as he spelled out ‘_twerking_’ on the game board.

  
Sam furrowed his eyebrows, “Seriously? (Y/N) and I have been working hard on her training and I continue to try and dig up info on the British Men of Letters, keep an eye out for cases and you’ve been goofing off with a game that went out of style five years ago?”

  
“Yeah, well I don’t think mom is quite ready for Snapchat yet.”

  
“You’re playing against mom?” Sam asked.

  
“Yeah,” Dean replied, his eyes lighting up with a smile.

  
“The same mom that didn’t know what a cellphone was a month ago?” Sam questioned. 

  
“Yeah,” Dean replied, looking slightly embarrassed.

  
“Doesn’t exactly seem like a fair fight, does it Dean?”

  
You let a huge laugh as his mother played ‘_squelch_’ and absolutely crushed him. Dean held up the phone to Sam, defeated, “You were saying?”

  
You stood up and made your way around to sit in the seat beside Dean, “So, how is your mom doing? We still need to get her over for a dinner soon.”

  
“She said she’s good. Just trying to deal with everything, trying to be more honest about what’s going on in her head. I don’t think she’d be doing that if it wasn’t for you,” Dean replied, reaching over to hold your hand. 

  
You smiled and squeezed his hand, but then his phone began to ring and you saw it was Castiel calling in. Dean answered the phone and put it on speaker, “Hey Cas, you still living out an eighties buddy comedy with Crowley?”

  
“Unfortunately,” he answered in a strained voice. 

  
Sam’s phone started *_dinging_* with notifications as he chimed in, “Any news on Lucifer?”

  
“Actually, yes. Look at the news,” Cas instructed. 

  
Sam had a concerned looked on his face as he typed furiously on his laptop, “One sec.”

  
“What? What is it Sam?” you asked, faking ignorance of the situation. 

  
“No way,” was all he replied before turning the laptop around towards you and Dean, “This is from today.”

  
You saw the news story start to play with a headline underneath that read ‘_Vince Vincent reunites band. Ladyheart returns_’. The boys looked towards each other, shaking their heads. 

  
Dean spoke up first, “Tell me that’s not Lucifer.”

  
“We don’t know,” Cas answered. 

  
“Cas,” Sam started, “I thought you said Rowena got some ‘licks’ in? Shouldn’t he have burned through his vessel by now?”

  
“Yeah, but we don’t know, we don’t . . .” Cas trailed off and you heard the King of Hell, Crowley, interject, “Hello boys, long time. We team up to save the world and then bupkis. You don’t call, you don’t write.”

  
“Yeah, we don’t care,” Dean said interrupting him and you couldn’t help but to let out a small giggle.

  
Crowley obviously heard you and asked, “Well, well, well, who else is there with you boys? Sounds like you gents have a hen in the roost.”

  
“_Oh shit, Crowley doesn’t know about me yet_,” you thought as you looked to Dean with wide eyes and mouthed, “I’m sorry.” He was trying to remain calm, but you could see fear just behind his eyes as he answered, “She doesn’t concern you Crowley.”

  
“Oh come on squirrel, I thought we were besties now. Who’s the third musketeer?”

  
Sam tried to redirect Crowleys attention, “Crowley! Lucifer!”

  
“Fine, but I want all the details later. Now, Lucifer. Just think about it. Of all the extinct rock acts, Ladyheart are the most Paleolithic. A major label sponsored comeback in 2016 for those dinosaurs? It doesn’t feel like a wholly natural turn of events, does it?”

  
“Maybe Lucifer found a way to heal his vessel,” Castiel mused. 

  
Dean rolled his eyes, “Yeah, but still. I mean, what the hell?”

  
Crowley spoke again, “He’s in L.A. I’ll see you there. Oh and I look forward to meeting the new little mouse.”

  
The phone went silent and Dean dropped his head down to his free hand, “Oh, L.A. I hate that place now. It’s the land of gridlock, Botox, overtaxing, underachieving plastic wannabes and everyone is drenched in a stench of sweaty desperation. ”

  
“So, when do we leave?” you queried.

  
Dean’s head immediately popped up, “We,” he pointed between him and Sam, “are going to leave in a few minutes. You,” he said pointing a finger firmly into your chest, “are staying here.”

  
“Winchester, we had an agreement. You said you accepted the fact that I would be hunting with you.”

  
“After you beat me in a fight. Hasn’t happened yet sweetheart.”

  
You threw your chair back and stood up angrily, “Well come on then, let me kick your ass and then we can hit the west coast. Unless you’re too chicken?”

  
Dean stood up and moved so he was chest to chest with you. He looked down into your eyes and you could see fury swirling around his green irises, “You are not going. That’s final.”

  
Sam started to intervene, “Dean, she has caught on quickly with everything. Maybe she’s ready. Why don’t you see for yourself?”

  
“I said NO!” Dean screamed.

  
“Winchester, you are not in charge here!” you yelled back at him.

  
“Sam, gives us a minute!” Dean ordered, still staring fiercely into your eyes. 

  
You heard Sam start to walk away from the library, but you didn’t dare break eye contact with Dean. The two of you were caught in another battle of wills and you had yet to lose. When you could no longer hear Sam’s footsteps echoing along the walls, you decided to speak up. “Now Winchester . . .” but your words were cut off by Dean’s lips slamming onto yours. You gasped a little, giving him enough room to slip his tongue into your mouth forcefully. You tried to fight back, knowing that you needed to discuss the matter at hand, but his hands were on your hips, turning you so you were pressed against the library table. He leaned down slightly and lifted you so you could sit on top of the table and the fight was all forgotten. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself as far to the edge as you could, so you were flushed up against him. You could feel the crotch of his jeans pushed up on yours and it caused a small moan to escape your lips. 

  
After a few moments, he broke the kiss and stepped back out of your reach. He was bent over slightly with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. You leaned back on your hands and took in a few deep breaths to gather your thoughts, “You’re not going to get me to agree to not go just because you’re a great kisser, Dean.”

  
He smirked, “So, I’m a great kisser huh?”

  
You rolled your eyes at him, “You know you are, OK?”

  
He finally caught his breath enough to stand up, “Well, you’re pretty decent yourself princess.”

  
“Decent?!” you half squealed.

  
He gave a light hearted chuckle and made his way back towards you. He placed his hands on top of your knees and looked down to the floor, “(Y/N), I know you want to go . . .”

  
“Oh, I’m going Winchester . . .” but you were cut off by his finger pressing your lips shut.

  
“Damn it woman, just listen to me for once,” he demanded in a serious tone, still avoiding eye contact. You narrowed your eyes at the top of his head, but kept silent. Finally, he continued, “I know that you’re above average and could probably hold your own. But princess, this is probably fucking _Lucifer_. The _devil_ himself. The biggest bad of them all. Please, just let me and Sam go handle this one. _Please_.”

  
He finally looked up into your eyes and your heartstrings were pulled tightly as you noticed that his eyes were wet with tears he was holding back. You reached up a hand to cup his face and stroke his cheek, “Damn it, Dean. I wanna be there for you. I don’t like the idea of you facing Lucifer either.”

  
“Yeah, but I’ve done it before and you haven’t. Plus, I’m not sure if I’m ready for Crowley to know about you yet.”

  
“Ashamed of me already Dean?” you teased.

  
He placed his hands on your shoulders, “Not a bit. But Crowley is . . .”

  
“Crowley. Yeah, I know. He’s a bit of a wild card,” you said finishing his sentence. 

  
“Come on, just this once, please stay. When I get back I’ll put you through your final test and take you on the next hunt. Deal?”

  
You sat there and thought about it for a minute. After all, you knew that nothing was really going to happen when he went out to L.A. You being there or not wouldn’t affect things in the long run and you could earn some brownie points by following his request. You clicked your tongue against your cheek a few times before responding, “Dean, I will stay here on two conditions.”

  
His eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Really? Well, name them!”

  
“A, I want you to call or text me everyday so I know you’re ok.”

  
“That sounds simple enough. What else?”

  
“And two, don’t die when you’re out there.”

  
“Got it.”

  
“If you can promise me those two things, I will stay here. Maybe I can keep on training and get caught up on lore I don’t know about.”

  
“You’re serious? You’ll really stay here?”

  
“I told you, Dean. It’s all about compromise,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, “Plus, I feel bad that you and Sam haven’t had as much time together since I’ve been here. This will give you two a chance to hang out.”

  
He leaned down and gave you a tender kiss before whispering, “Thank you,” against your lips.

  
“Yeah, yeah you big softy. Now, go pack and get out of here before I change my mind.”

  
Thirty minutes later, Sam handed you a training schedule and provided you with a few credit cards he had obtained with female names while Dean had given you the key to the bunker. The boys had packed up the Impala and you were leaning down into the driver’s window talking to them both, “Now, I know it’s pointless to say this, but be careful. The two of you have someone waiting at home for you now.”

  
Dean playfully smacked Sam on the chest, “Aww look, she’s getting all possessive now Sammy. Maybe we should run while we have the chance.”

  
“Hush jackass,” you said leaning in further and planting a quick kiss on Dean’s lips, “Let me know when you make it to a motel tonight, please.”

  
“Yeah, yeah mom, we’ll check in,” he replied with a wink. 

  
You stood up and backed away from the car and within seconds, they were pulling out of the garage. You waved them goodbye and sent up a silent prayer, well more of a threat, to Chuck, “_You better take care of my boys if you know what’s good for you._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re gonna start getting into more things from season 12, so I hope you enjoy it! Please leave a quick comment if you’re enjoying reading the story!


	19. Going Off Script

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone doesn’t like that you’re here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short little chapter introducing another character from the Supernatural world and a little fluff before the hunting starts.

*****

**Reader’s POV**

It was almost 2:00am and you were struggling to stay awake while you waited to hear from Dean. You had decided to stay in his room because, let’s face it, his bed was much more comfortable and you felt secured by his lingering scent on the sheets. You were sitting up, repainting your toenails pink when you heard your phone *_ding_*. Careful not to spill the polish, you reached over and grabbed your phone. You looked down and saw a text message from Dean.

  
“_Hey nerd, Sam and I stopped for the night. We’re gonna get a few hours of rest and pick it up in the morning. Better train hard while I’m gone._”

  
You quickly wrote back, “_Yes, sir, as you request. Thanks for sticking to the first promise you made me. Sleep tight._”

  
You sat your phone down, but were surprised when you heard another *_ding_*. Dean had written back, “_You’re still up?_”

  
“_Yes, idjit. I wanted to make sure you all got in somewhere safe._”

  
“_So, what are you doing to keep yourself awake? ;)_”

  
“_Dean, you have such a perverted mind._”

  
“_You love it._”

  
“_Ok, yeah a little bit. ;) I am actually doing this_,” you texted back including a picture of your toenails with the fresh coat of pink polish. 

  
“_Woman, is that my bed?! Don’t get pink polish on my sheets!_”

  
“_LOL, I won’t I promise. Yes, I’m sleeping in your bed, if that’s ok?_”

  
“_Depends on what you’re sleeping in, sweetheart._”

  
You thought about it for a moment and decided to pull off the shirt and shorts you had on, leaving you only in your underwear. You pulled his pillow up in front of you to cover yourself and snapped a selfie. You sent it to him along with a message, “_Is this ok?_”

  
Several seconds went by this time and you were worried he didn’t get your message. Finally he replied, “_Move the pillow? ;)_”

  
You laughed out loud, “_Nope, that’s all you’re getting. Now, enjoy your motel bed while I sleep naked in your bed, all alone. :(_ ”

  
“_You’re such a tease, woman._”

  
You mentally gave yourself a high five and caught yourself grinning widely. You simply wrote back, “_Night Dean_” and he responded with “_Night princess_”. You sat your phone back down on the table and made sure your toenails were dry before pulling the sheets over top of you. You hadn’t intended on just sleeping in your underwear, but it made you feel naughty knowing you were in Dean’s bed, practically naked. So, you decided to go along with it and eventually drifted off to sleep. 

  
The next few days pass pretty uneventfully. You continued to train, texted Dean daily and thought about what you wanted to get the boys for Christmas. On the third day, you decided to get out of the bunker to run some errands and get some fresh air and natural sunlight. You drove your Kia into town and set up a P.O. box for yourself at the post office, picked up a few groceries and attended an appointment you made with a general practitioner in town. You wanted to make sure that whatever brought you here hadn’t messed with your health and, since you hoped that things would eventually get more physical with Dean, decided to ask for birth control.   


That evening, you went for a walk along the path that surrounded the bunker to try and distract yourself from what you knew was going on in L.A. Tonight would be the night of the secret concert and you just hoped and prayed that everything would play out like it did on the show. You were almost back to the bunker, when you felt like somebody was watching you. You picked up the pace and were almost to the front door, when you heard a female call out your name, “(Y/N), we have some business to discuss.”

  
Your body stiffened as an arctic chill ran down your spine, causing the hair to stand on the back of your neck. You hadn’t thought to bring a knife or gun or anything to really defend yourself with. “_I’ve gotta learn to start being prepared_,” you chided yourself. You inhaled deeply and slowly turned around and were stunned to see Billie, the reaper, standing a few feet behind you. 

  
“Billie?” you blurted out in disbelief. 

  
The infamous reaper was standing about ten feet from you in her usual outfit, wearing jeans, a basic black shirt and a brown biker jacket. Her dark curly hair flowed long and freely in the wind. She had her head cocked to the side in curiosity and her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Well, you do know who I am. That’s surprising. You seem to have an edge over me and that, doesn’t happen. Ever,” she said with controlled rage. 

  
You just stood there in silence, unable to move as she slowly approached you. Billie continued to speak, “So, who are you exactly and why are you causing problems?”

  
You blinked your eyes a few times and swallowed hard before answering, “What?”

  
“Don’t play dumb with me. I’ve been watching you, when I can, and you have seriously been messing with fate. Because of you, there are at least six people alive that shouldn’t be. I don’t like when people interfere with the big picture.”

  
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry to cause you problems. But, I’m pretty sure that with me being here, everything is being rewritten from here on out.”

  
“I don’t like that.”

  
You crossed your arm and straightened your back, “Tough.”

  
“Oooh, so you do have a little fight in you,” she said with a smirk, now standing almost toe to toe with you, “Who are you exactly?”

  
“All you need to know is that I’m apparently here for a reason. And if I can help it, I’m going to continue to save the people that I can.”

  
“Look, I came here to try and reason with you, but I don’t take it you’re just going to let things be.”

  
“No way in hell. Like I said, if I can stop someone from dying, I’m doing it.”

  
“You sure you wanna go against a reaper?”

  
“I’m not going against you, but I sure as shit won’t let you boss me around. Besides, I know your M.O. Billie. ‘Clean hands’ and all that, right?” you asked, holding up your hands palm up in front of her for show. 

  
“Yeah, but there are a lot of loopholes around that. Just remember, I tried to reason with you. See you real soon (Y/N).”

  
In the blink of an eye, she was gone and you let out a breath that you had been holding in. “_What the fuck was that?! Now I’m pissing off reapers?_” In your old life, you may have been scared and listened to Billie, but now, something in you had changed and you were pissed that she had dared to threaten you. You decided for the time being that you would keep that little conversation to yourself. You certainly didn’t want Dean and Sam worrying about something that you didn’t think they needed to be concerned about. 

  
Later that night, you received a call from a defeated Dean. Luckily, he and everyone else was alive and it sounded like the fight with Lucifer had gone the same way you had seen on the show. He said they would try to hit the road tonight and probably be home by Saturday afternoon. You felt so saddened for them and knew they would feel crushed when they returned, so you hatched a plan. After hanging up with Dean, you immediately made another call. The person picked up the line and after a few minutes of explaining your idea, they were on board with your scheme. Before finishing the call you said, “Thanks, I know it’ll mean a lot to them. See you Saturday.” You spent the next few days by yourself, ordering the boys’ Christmas gifts online and preparing for your surprise. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
It had been a long two and half days of driving, but you were finally pulling into the bunker at 4:00pm on Saturday afternoon. You were so thrilled to be back home and excited to see her. You hadn’t anticipated on missing her as much as you did, but it seemed like every time you turned around, there was something that had reminded you of her. You thought about her when Sam drank the “vegetable water” in Lucifer’s hotel reception area, when you saw the Christmas lights that had started to grace the windows of shopping stores and even when you caught a hint of a Taylor Swift song from a passing car when walking down a street in L.A. 

  
Of course, Crowley had been on your case the whole time, demanding to know who the “little mouse” was. You were able to placate him by telling him she was just another hunter you had taken under your wing, but you felt like he wasn’t buying the story. “_Oh well, screw him, he doesn’t need to know everything._”

  
As you put Baby into park, your thoughts were interrupted by Sam, “So, why do you think she insisted on us not eating before we got back?”

  
“I don’t know, but I’m hoping maybe she cooked for us. God, her food is delicious.”

  
Sam smiled affectionately, “I know. I’ve missed it.”

  
“All right, let’s see what the nerd has planned for us.”

  
You exited the Impala and grabbed your bags from the trunk, heading down the corridor and towards the war room. The closer you got, the smell of something delicious got stronger and stronger, “Yes!” you said pumping your fist, “We’re about to grub Sammy!”

You made your way to the war room and both you and Sam were taken aback by the spread of food on the table. There were mashed potatoes, green beans, carrots, rolls, several casserole dishes, macaroni and cheese, stuffing, cranberry sauce and all of it surrounded a gigantic turkey. Your bags fell to the floor with a *_thud_* when she turned the corner, hands full of plates and silverware. Her hair was in loose curls and she was wearing a simple short sleeve, dark green dress that stopped just above knees. Despite looking at her picture on your phone every night before you feel asleep, you had forgotten just how beautiful she was. 

  
Her eyes immediately lit up when she saw you standing in the doorway. She practically threw the plates on the table and ran over to you, “Dean! You’re home!” she squealed, slamming into you for a big hug. You couldn’t help but to be carried away by her enthusiasm and surprised her when you gripped her tightly and spun her around a few times. When you set her back down on her feet, she immediately began an assault on your lips with a forceful and needy kiss. Your lips continued to moved against one another as you instinctively ran your hands down her back to grip her ass and pull her in closer. After several long seconds, she finally pulled away from the kiss, leaving you breathless. You rested your forehead against hers, “Well, now that’s a proper welcome home.”

  
“I guess I missed you a little bit,” she said, biting her lip as she smiled. 

  
“Hey, what about me?” Sam asked. 

  
She turned to Sam, “I missed you too, string bean. Come here and give me a hug,” she ordered as she left your arms to embrace your brother. He bent down low and gave her a tight squeeze, shaking her playfully back and forth several times. Sam gave her a peck on the head and finally released her. 

  
She backed up to stand in front of both you and eyed you up and down, “Well, you guys don’t look too beat up. And you didn’t come back dead, so that’s a good thing. I’m really sorry you couldn’t catch Lucifer, but I have faith it’ll happen.”

  
“Thanks babe,” you responded solemnly. “So, what’s all this?” you asked as you approached the feast that was set on the table in front of you. 

  
“Well,” she started, “Since you guys missed Thanksgiving dinner and since you had such a hard week, I decided to cook you a make-up meal. I hope it’s not too much.”

  
“Is there . . .”

  
“Yes, Dean,” she said with an eye roll, “There’s pie for dessert. I made chocolate, cherry and my banoffee pie for you to try.”

  
“Damn Dean,” Sam interjected, “Maybe we should go away more often.”

  
She laughed mockingly, “No, this was a one time deal. I’ll be with you next time.”

  
You were touched by her gesture and knew it must’ve taken her a long time to cook all of this, “Did you get any sleep? This had to have taken all night.”

  
She gave you a mischievous smile, “Well, I did have an assistant chef.” She called towards the kitchen door, “Hey! You can come out now, the boys are here.”

  
You and Sam turned your focus to the kitchen door and once again your breath was taken away as a familiar figure entered the doorway. “Hi boys,” your mother said smiling from ear to ear, “Surprise!”

  
“Mom?” you asked as your unconsciously made your way over to hug her, “What are you doing here?”

  
She gave you a strong hug and then turned to Sam, who had also made his way over to her, to give him one as well, “Well, (Y/N) called a few days ago and said you had a rough hunt and that she wanted to surprise you. I promised I would visit and plus, who am I to turn down a free meal?”

  
“That’s awesome,” you replied with a huge grin, “It’s really good to see you Mom. We’ve missed you.”

  
“I missed you too,” she said placing a hand on your cheek. 

  
“Ok, ok,” she called out from behind you, causing you to turn and look at her, “chick flick moment over,” she added with wink. “Everybody, sit, sit. Let’s eat before the food gets cold. Dean, you wanna carve the bird?”

  
“Oh hell yeah!” you exclaimed as you made your way over to grab the huge carving knife that was laid out in front of the turkey. 

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“Holy shit, this is good!” Dean practically moaned with a mouth full of your signature pie, “I will never doubt your baking skills again.”

  
“Damn, it is really good,” Sam added in agreement as Mary nodded her head. 

  
It had been almost two hours since Sam and Dean had returned home. They had thoroughly enjoyed your little cornucopia of food and you had finally managed to convince them to try your banoffee pie, “See, I told you Dean. Am I gonna hear those three little words I wanna hear?”

  
Dean rolled his eyes and Mary almost choked on her food, “What? What three words?”

  
Sam let out a soft chuckle as you explained, “I’ve been trying to teach Dean those three little words that every woman wants to hear.” When she gave you a blank look, you explained, “You know, Mary. Every woman wants to hear ‘you were right’.” 

  
“Oh!” she said as realization dawned across her face, “Well Dean, you gonna tell her she was right?”

  
Dean shoved another forkful of pie into his mouth, “I already told her that that was never gonna happen.”

  
“Oh, I’ll make it happen once day Dean, mark my words,” you said giving him a wink. You stood up and started to gather everyone’s plates, “I’m glad that you all enjoyed the meal. You three play your cards right and maybe it’ll happen again for Christmas.”

  
“You’re gonna get my boys to celebrate Christmas?” Mary asked. 

  
“Oh yes, yes I am,” you replied smugly. 

  
Dean finished off his slice of pie and slid back into his chair, “Eh, the food was ok.”

  
“Dean, you ate like half of everything on this table,” Sam scoffed. 

  
“Yeah, well a starving man doesn’t turn down a meal,” he replied with a boyish grin. 

“Oh yeah, Winchester?” you asked, narrowing your eyes and setting the plates you had collected back down on the table. 

  
“Yeah,” he responded snarkily. 

  
“Well then, maybe you need another taste.” You reached over the table and grabbed the bowl of mashed potatoes. You had no idea what possessed you to do what you did next. Maybe it was his smug attitude or the fact that you could tell he was still stressed out by Lucifer and you just wanted him to relax for a few minutes. But, before you knew it, you had scooped up a big spoonful of potatoes and flung it directly at his face. Mary gasped and Sam let out a roaring laugh. 

  
You stood there, biting your lip to keep from laughing as Dean simply shook his head and raised his hand up to wipe his potatoes out of his eyes. He licked them from his fingers and if the moment wasn’t so comedic, you would’ve found yourself turned on by the way his tongue slid around his long digits, cleaning every bit of food off of them. 

  
“Ok, maybe I was wrong, they are pretty good,” he said standing up and making his way over to you. “But I think you should try them again too.” Suddenly, his hand was in the bowl of potatoes. He grabbed a huge handful and plopped it down on the top of your head, food falling down your back and to the floor. 

  
“Oh no, you didn’t!” you said, reaching for the bowl of macaroni and pouring it over his head. Dean stood there, macaroni and cheese falling down his face and oozing down his shirt. Mary and Sam were guffawing and you were pretty sure you actually heard Mary snort. Dean gave you a wink and nodded towards his mother and brother, “I think we’re leaving someone out, don’t you princess?” 

  
You took the hint and reached for the cranberry sauce. Before Sam could react, you had thrown a handful of the red sauce at him while Dean pelted his mother with broccoli casserole. Soon enough, all four of your were flinging food across the table; you didn’t even know what you were throwing or who you were aiming at. After several minutes, just as you were about to shove a piece of turkey down Sam’s shirt, you were smacked in the face with a pie, causing everyone to stop the food fight. 

  
You backed up and wiped your eyes just in time to see Dean drop the aluminum foil pan. You stared at him in disbelief as he bent over laughing, “Dean, you destroyed a pie!”

  
He took in a couple of deep breaths and finally walked over to you. His face was still covered in mashed potatoes and his clothes were a rainbow of colors from various foods that had been thrown at him. He cupped your face and licked your cheek, “Eh, you’ll make another one.”

  
You smacked his chest, “You are a cocky son of a bitch.”

  
He leaned in to give you a deep kiss, “Yeah, yeah, you love it.”

  
“_I do, I truly do_,” you thought as he pulled away to lick the pie off your other cheek, causing you to giggle uncontrollably. 

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
Several hours of clean up and a hot shower later, you were sipping on a beer in the kitchen as you finished putting away the dishes. She had finally left to go get cleaned up, insisting everyone else go before her while she continued to clean up the war room, “Hey, I started it, I’ll do most of the cleaning. Maybe you can work on the dishes?” she had offered. 

  
Thankfully, your mother had volunteered to help you while Sam gathered up all the trash to take outside. You had been completely caught off guard when she had dared to fling food in your face and, if it had been anybody else, you might have exploded with rage. But with her, you knew it was a playful move and you couldn’t just let her get away unscathed, now could you? 

  
“What you smiling about over there?” your mom asked as she finished drying another plate and handed it to you to put away in the cupboard.

  
“What? Am I?”

  
“Yeah, like a little puppy.”

  
“Psh, no I’m not,” you said shaking your head. 

“Were you thinking about (Y/N)?” she asked. 

  
“I was just laughing about all the hard work she put into the meal, just to end up using it as paint for a Picasso mural.”

  
“I’ve never been in a food fight before.”

  
“Me either. I can’t believe we actually did that.”

  
Mary patted you on the shoulder, “Me too. If it wasn’t for her, I don’t think we would have.”

  
“No, definitely not,” you replied wistfully. 

  
“For what it’s worth, Dean, she seems like a good girl.”

  
“Oh yeah?”

  
“Yeah. I mean, she really cares about not only you, but Sam as well. I mean, who would put this much effort into something like this for you two. Hell, for me as well. After all, it was our first Thanksgiving together as a family.”

  
“And it’ll be a hard one to top.”

  
A few more seconds passed in silence as the two of you finished putting the last of the silverware away. When the dishes were finally done, your mother pulled you into a warm hug, “I love you Dean.”

  
You hugged her tightly, “Love you, mom.”

  
“But Dean,” she said pulling back to look you in the eyes, “If you hurt that nice girl, I may have to kill you.”

  
Your eyes widened as you raised your eyebrows, “Hey! I’m your son here, aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

  
She gave you a peck on the cheek, “I am, that’s why I’m warning you first.”

  
Thirty minutes later, you had assumed your position in bed with her, arm wrapped snugly around her middle. She had quickly fallen asleep after her long, laborious day, wearing grey sweatpants and one of your black and white flannels. Despite everything that had happened this week, your heart and soul felt at peace for the moment. For a few hours tonight, she had managed to distract you from all the bullshit you had to deal with and that nagging feeling of failure that always lurked in the back of your head. Not only that, but she had given a good memory to your brother and mother as well. You only hoped that you could return the favor to her someday. For the first time since she arrived, no matter how much you felt like you didn’t deserve her, you actually started to believe that she could be your soulmate. And that thought, terrified the hell out of you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billie is here and she is pissed! Any theories as to what she may have up her sleeves for the future? Also, I so enjoy the thought of the Winchesters having a food fight and acting like big kids.


	20. Surrounded by Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean puts you through your final test and a case is popping up way too soon in the timeline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I didn’t intend for this entire chapter to be only the Reader’s POV, but that’s just the way it flowed. Hope you enjoy!

*****

**Reader’s POV**

  
The next morning, you and the three Winchesters had a small breakfast before Mary said her goodbyes, but promised to be back for Christmas. Dean had finally agreed to see how much you had learned from Sam and ordered you to meet him in fifteen minutes. 

  
Soon enough, you were standing in the gym in jeans and a white t-shirt that had the silhouette of Ariel from ‘The Little Mermaid’ in water colors on the front. You had your hands up in their usual defensive position and stared intensely into the vividly, bright green eyes of the hunter in front of you. Dean was leering at you like prey, waiting for you to make the first move. When he realized that you too were waiting, he started to taunt you. 

  
“So princess, you know why mermaids wear seashells don’t you? It’s because the ‘B’ shells were too small,” he said with a small chuckle. 

  
“Oh yeah, think you’re funny, huh?”

  
“I think I’m adorable,” he replied with a wink, “And I think you’re stalling.”

  
“Just calculating my first move. By the way, know what the difference is between a bonus check and your dick?”

  
“My dick’s bigger?” he quipped, flashing his teeth in a dazzling smile.

  
“Someone’s always willing to blow the bonus check,” you answered, sticking out your tongue. 

  
His face went blank, “Ok, that’s it. Game on!” Suddenly, he lunged forward towards you, but you dodged his attack. You tried to grab him from behind, but he quickly turned, grabbed your arms and slammed you to the ground. 

  
He backed away, allowing you to stand up, “Come on princess, that the best you got?”

  
You stood and faced him once again, “Not even close.” You threw a punch, which he easily deflected, but you used that as an opening to sock him in the gut with your other fist. He was momentarily surprised, which allowed you to throw another punch. This time, your first connected with his jaw. When you felt pain radiate down across your knuckles, you were pretty sure that he had hurt you more than you hurt him. 

  
He stumbled back, gripped his chin and shifted his jaw back and forth a few times, “Nice right hook. Think you can hit me again?”

  
Instead of answering, you ran forward and tried to knock him off balance. However, he had anticipated this move and quickly grabbed you by your arms and slammed you to the floor again. This time, he pinned you down by your arms and straddled your body with his knees. He leaned down close until his face was just a foot away from yours, “Looks like you lost, sweetheart. Maybe next time?” 

  
“_Shit this is gonna hurt. Just do it, do it quick!_”

  
With a mild internal pep talk, you gathered the courage to quickly and forcefully slam your head up against his. A sharp stabbing pain exploded across your right temple and you saw stars gather around your peripheral vision. However, your plan had worked; Dean reared back on his knees and held his hands to his own forehead.

  
“Son of a bitch!” he yelled out in agony. 

  
You don’t know how, but somehow you managed to gather yourself together before he did. You grabbed him by the sides of his open, red flannel and shoved him to the ground beside you. Despite the jackhammers banging against your skull, you were able to roll with him and soon enough you were the one straddling him. Before he could react, you wrapped your hands around his throat and squeezed, not enough to really hurt him, but enough to claim your dominance over him. 

  
“Who’s the princess now, Winchester?” you asked with complete seriousness. 

  
Dean blinked his eyes a few times and reached up to pull your hands away from his neck, but you only squeezed tighter, letting him know you were not letting him go until he admitted defeat. After a minute of him trying unsuccessfully to pry your fingers from his throat, he finally whispered, “Ok, Ok, I give. Now let me go.”

  
You released him from your grip and rolled over onto your back beside him. You’re breathing was harsh and heavy, but you were finally able to process the thunderous ache that was still throbbing away in your head, “It’s about damn time.”

  
Dean rubbed his neck as he turned to look at you, “Where the hell did that come from?”

  
“I had to show you I was serious,” you replied nonchalantly as you continued to stare at the ceiling, “So I figured a hit to the head would prove it. After all, you are pretty hard headed and stubborn.”

  
“Takes one to know one.”

  
You turned your head and made eye contact with him. You were expecting him to look angry or pained, but instead you saw something more primal swirling in his eyes. He licked his lips, causing you to blush and your breath to hitch in your throat before you asked, barely above a whisper, “Dean, are you OK?”

  
“I’m more than OK. You’re kind of a badass, you know that?” he practically growled. 

  
You couldn’t help but to chuckle, “Guess I did knock some sense into you then.”

  
His face was serious as he rolled back on top of you, supporting his upper body with his forearms. He continued to stare down at you and licked his lips, causing you to swallow in anticipation. Your mouth slightly parted as your eyes drifted over his face. You lifted up a hand to his cheek and stroked your thumb back and forth, “I’m sorry if I really did hurt you, but I had to prove a point.”

  
He lowered his head and sucked your lower lip into his mouth, releasing it after a few seconds with a pornographic *POP*. You moaned and leaned up to make contact with his lips. Your lips moved against one another forcefully for several moments before he lowered your head back down to the mat. He hooked one arm behind your back to pull you closer to him as he sensually swept his tongue back and forth across your lips. You exhaled with a deep moan, allowing his soft tongue to slide along yours. You hooked your legs around his upper thighs and felt him slightly grind into your core, leading you to arch your back up against him. 

  
His mouth moved down along your neck, leaving small kisses and scraping your skin with his stubble. He placed a kiss on the freckle in the center of your chest before focusing on that sweet spot along your collar bone. You ran your hands up underneath the back of his shirt and reveled in the skin to skin contact. He shivered from your touch and growled as he sucked harder on your flesh. His touch, his intoxicating scent and the little sounds he was making as you dragged your nails across his back all started to become too much for you to process. You felt lightheaded and overwhelmed from it all and suddenly, your vision faded to black. 

  
“Hey! Hey! Come on sweetheart, wake up. (Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Dean screamed frantically from far away. 

  
You felt a hard, cold surface against your back and were vaguely aware of someone brushing the hair away from your face repeatedly. Even though your eyes were closed, it felt like the room was spinning around you.

  
“Sam, what’s going on? Why isn’t she waking up?” Dean asked in a panic. 

  
“I don’t know, I think she has a concussion from where she head butted you.”

  
“Check her again,” Dean ordered. 

  
Sam sighed, “Dean, I have. She’s breathing fine and her pulse is strong. Let’s give her a few more minutes to wake up.”

  
“Damn woman. She’s pushing herself too hard!”

  
“You’re the one that pushed her Dean. You just had to make sure she could beat you,” Sam responded with disgust. 

  
You just knew Dean was beating himself up internally at the sound of that and there was no way in hell, concussion or not, you would stand for that. Your mouth was dry as hell, but you managed to utter, “Shut up Samuel.”

  
Suddenly, you felt a presence hover over you again. You felt a hand stroke your cheek and then heard Dean’s voice, “Hey, what was that?”

  
“I told Sam to shut up,” you groaned, “I was the one that insisted I fight you, not him.”

  
He sighed heavily, “Sweetheart, it’s good to hear your voice again. Can you open your eyes?”

  
You groaned again, “I don’t want to. It hurts too much.”

  
“Come on, open up them eyes and take a look at this pretty face in front of you.”

  
“What, are you holding a mirror in front of me?” you asked as a smile crept across your face. 

  
You heard Sam’s voice from your other side, “Well at least her attitude is intact.”

  
Dean urged you on, speaking softly “Come on (Y/N), please. Open your eyes.”

  
Slowly, ever so slowly, you started to lift your eyelids. You couldn’t believe this little movement was such a struggle for you, but you were encouraged by Dean’s presence. Finally, you opened your eyes all the way and made contact with his beautifully, brilliant green eyes, “Hi jackass.”

  
Relief washed over his face, “Hey nerd.”

  
“What happened? Where am I?”

  
“Well you passed out in the middle of us . . . well we were . . .”

  
“Yeah, I remember that part.”

  
“I’ll have to watch myself next time. Didn’t know I could make a girl pass out from kissing her,” he said with a smirk, but you could see the fear and concern lingering in his eyes. 

  
Sam commented, “I think it had more to do with her kicking your ass, lover boy.”

  
Dean punched him in the shoulder and then continued, “When you didn’t respond, I picked you up and brought you into the library to Sam.”

  
“How long was I out?”

  
“It’s been about five minutes. I was about to load you up into the Impala and take you to the hospital if you didn’t wake up,” Dean answered. 

  
“Thanks for looking out for me. Sam, can you go get me some Tylenol for my headache? Dean help me up, I need to sit up,” you ordered. 

  
“Woah, woah, take it easy tiger,” Dean stated, urging you to lay back down.

  
“No, really, I need to try and sit up. Please.”

  
Sam left to go get your medication while Dean placed one hand gently behind your head and grabbed your right hand with his. Slowly, he helped you to a sitting position on the library table. He helped you turn so that your feet were dangling off the edge and although you got a little dizzy again and almost fell forward, Dean was right there to catch you. He gripped your face in his hands and looked at you, silently asking if you were ok. You gave him a smile and a slight nod in reassurance. 

  
“How’s your head?” you asked him. 

  
“Really, you’re asking me how I’m doing?”

  
“Yes jackass, I am”

  
“Pretty sure I’m going to have a big bruise, but I’ll live. You got a nasty cut on your head, but at least it won’t need stitches.”

  
“Well, thank God for small miracles,” you replied sarcastically. 

  
Sam arrived back in the library with the Tylenol and a bottle of water. You thanked him for it and quickly swallowed the white tablets and took a big gulp of your drink. Dean helped you to gingerly stand and move to sit in a chair. 

  
They were both looking at you like you were some fragile house of cards that was going to tumble down at any moment, “Guys, really. I’ll be OK. Nurse, remember? I just need a little rest and I’ll be as good as new.”

  
Dean leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of your head as Sam spoke up, “Well, that’s good. I was actually hoping you’d beat Dean, because I think I may have a case.”

  
Dean whipped his head around, “Now, Sam? In the middle of all of the Lucifer bullcrap?”

  
Sam exhaled deeply, “Well, it’s not like we have any leads on him. Besides, maybe (Y/N) will know about it and it can be an easy case for her to go on.”

  
Dean stormed toward his brother, waving his hands, “She just suffered from a concussion. The last things she needs to do is go on a hunt. Did you hit your head too Sam?”

  
“Dean,” you interjected, “Let’s just see if I know it. I can decided if it’s too strenuous or not and then we’ll go from there.”

  
“Fine,” he grumbled. 

  
“So Sam, what’s the case?” you asked. 

  
Sam walked over to the other table where his laptop was sitting open, “So, in Arkansas, there was an accountant, Barry Gilman who was found dead at home. There were no signs of forced entry and the news is speculating that the cause of death was suffocation.”

  
“What’d he choke on?” Dean asked.

  
You spoke up, “Let me guess, he stuffed his face full of money, right?”

  
“Uh, yeah, exactly,” Sam stammered, “Does this mean you know it?”

  
“As a matter of fact I do,” you said proudly. 

  
“But wait,” Dean asked furrowing his eyebrows, “I thought you didn’t know anything that was supposed to happen for a few weeks?”

  
You answered thoughtfully, “I know, that’s because this wasn’t supposed to happen for several months. I don’t know why it’s happening now, but I do know about this. It was actually one of my favorite episodes.”

  
“Well, tell us about it,” Sam ordered.

  
“I will, in the car on the way to Arkansas,” you replied. You could see that Dean was about to protest, but you reassured him, “Dean, this is a really simple case and we can probably take care of it in a day or two with my foreknowledge.”

  
“Will you at least tell us what it is?” he asked.

  
You slowly stood up from your chair, careful not to move too quickly, and reached out to pinch Dean’s cheeks, “Oh, it’s just your favorite, cowboy. Can you guess?”

  
“No, please don’t say it.”

  
“Yep,” you said with a nod. 

  
“Witches,” the two of you said in unison.

  
You remembered something about the hunt and beamed ear to ear. Dean noticed your smile and asked, “What are you so happy about? It’s frickin’ witches, man.”

  
You wiggled your eyebrows and pulled him into a tight embrace, “Because, I am going to get to see you ride Larry in person.”

  
“Larry?” Sam asked.

  
“Who the hell is Larry and why am I riding him?” Dean asked in horror.

  
“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” you teased. 

  
Upon Dean’s insistence, you decided to take it easy for the rest of the day and head out for Arkansas early the next morning. You were ready to hop in the car, but he was adamant about you getting at least one day’s rest and, deep down, you knew he was probably right. Sam didn’t like the idea either, but agreed with the plan once you reassured him that no one else would die if you waited one more day. The next morning, you were up bright and early, pushing Sam and Dean out the door and the three of you were on the road by 8:15am to Eureka Springs. 

  
“Now, I’m not a nurse, but aren’t you suppose to take like a week to recover from a concussion?” Sam asked over his shoulder. 

  
You shrugged your shoulders, “Usually, yeah. I expected to wake up this morning feeling like I had been hit by a Mack truck, but I’m great. After resting and chilling out most of yesterday, I slept really good and I feel like myself this morning.” You turned your attention towards Dean, “How are you doing this, handsome?”  


“Me? I’m doing fine, despite this mini goose egg on my forehead. It should go down in a couple of days though,” Dean answered. 

  
You leaned forward and placed your elbows on the front bench, “Are you sure? Need me to drive?” you asked with a playful smirk.

  
“Uh, hell no! I’m not that bad off,” he replied, using his shoulder to nudge your elbow.

  
After a few minutes, Sam spoke up, “Now that we’re on the way, can you tell us more about what we’re walking into here?”

  
You could feel your mood shift and suddenly, you were in ‘hunter mode’, “OK, listen up boys. It is an easy hunt, but I know we still need to be careful. So, it’s not just one witch we’re going after, it’s three.”

  
“Three?” Sam asked in shock.

  
“Yes, a family to be exact, two brothers and one sister. There’s Gideon, Boyd and Catriona Loughlin. They came over from the old world about a hundred years ago with their family, probably to escape the British Men of Letters, but they’re the only ones to survive this long.”

  
“What happened to the rest of them?” Dean asked. 

  
“People like you happened to them. They hate hunters with a vengeance,” you replied, patting both of them on the shoulder. 

  
“Ok, so why did they turn old Barry into a greenback piñata?” Dean asked with a snicker, earning him an eye roll from Sam. 

  
“They were stealing money from him and Catriona couldn’t let it go. She force fed him a hex bag and that . . .”

  
“Caused him to gobble up ‘Benjamins” until he bit the dust. Got it,” Dean said, finishing your sentence. 

  
“So, this all sounds simple enough, where’s the twist?” Sam asked. 

  
You were unexpectedly overcome with emotion and tears started to well in your eyes. Dean noticed your silence and turned to look at you, “Hey, hey it’s OK. Whatever it is, you can tell us babe.”

  
You managed to choke out, “Sorry, it’s just, it was such a funny story, but then took a serious turn that I wasn’t expecting. See Dean, the first night in town, before you knew any of this or who killed Barry, you went to a bar to pick up dinner. You spotted Gideon there and must’ve recognized him from a picture that was in Barry’s office. You followed him out the back and realized he was a witch. You took a shot at him, but didn’t kill him. You ended up chasing him into the woods to finish him off and . . .”

  
“Wait, I missed my first shot?” Dean asked in disbelief. 

  
“Well you did have four shots of tequila and had ‘blown off some steam’ with one of the waitresses, so I’m guessing you weren’t on your ‘A’ game,” you replied in a slightly judgmental tone, cocking your head to the side.

  
Dean looked slightly embarrassed as he licked his lips and replied, “Heh, yeah that sounds like me.”

  
You let him off the hook, “It’s fine, I wasn’t here and the ironic part was, you didn’t even remember it the next day. When you chased Gideon into the forest, he put a curse on you before he died. It caused you to slowly start losing your memory. At first, it was pretty hilarious because you didn’t remember the girl you had slept with less than twelve hours before, you drove Baby into two newspaper vending machines and you even forgot who Rowena was. However, you did remember Skinemax, go figure.”

  
“Rowena? What’s Rowen got to do with this” he asked in confusion. 

  
“Oh yeah, when Sam realized what was happening, he reached out to her for help. But since I’m here, I think it’s best to leave her out of it for the moment.”

  
“But, if she was here before, she might be helpful now,” Sam suggested. 

  
“Listen, I love Rowena. I think that deep down she has a very soft spot for you boys and cares more than she lets on. But, she is always looking for more power and that’s exactly why she came to help you two. You see, the Loughlins possess a very powerful spell book known as the   
‘The Black Grimoire’. Witches would come from all over the world to study its powers, for a price. In fact, Rowen tried to learn its secrets, but they turned her away. So, when you called,” you said, looking at Sam before continuing, “she jumped at the chance to get her hands on the book again. Not only does it contain hundreds of powerful spells, but there is a particular one in there that will unleash certain aspects of her powers that the grand coven has bound.”

  
“Did she get the book from us?” Sam wanted to know.

  
“Surprisingly no. She gave up the book without much of a fight and helped to restore Dean’s memory. But it was still one of the saddest things that ever happened. Dean,” you rubbed a hand up and down his arm that was closest to you, “you forgot who your mother was, who Sam was and at one point you couldn’t even remember your own name. It was truly gut wrenching to watch you go through it and if I can stop it from happening, I will.”

  
Dean reached over and grabbed your hand. He squeezed it tightly before bringing it to his mouth and placing a firm kiss on the back of it. You squeezed his hand back and leaned your head against his shoulder. You knew exactly what he was trying to say, but couldn’t bring himself to, especially in front of Sam. 

  
The three of you rode along in the Impala for the next several hours, listening to Dean’s latest cassette pick, Led Zeppelin’s self titled album, and figuring out your plan of attack. It was decided that you and Dean would go to the bar where Gideon would, hopefully, show up again. When he did, Dean would sneak out the back to meet up with Sam while you led Gideon out that way, trying to question him about Barry. Once he was taken care of, the three of you would head over to the Loughlin’s house and take care of Boyd and Catriona. However, since you didn’t know their address and the accountant’s office would be closed by the time you got to town, you would have to put the plan into action the next day. 

  
Sam had gone into the gas station to pick up a few snacks and Dean was pumping gas when he spoke up, “Maybe we can hit up that bar tonight, ya know, get a feel of the place?”

  
“Mmmhmm, are you sure you just don’t want to see if you can get lucky with that waitress,” you asked, standing against the trunk of Baby.

  
Dean set up the gas to pump automatically and made his way around to stand in front of you, “Now, why would I want to do such a stupid thing when I have you right here?”

  
“Well, you have done stupider things, Dean.”

  
“Hey, I thought ‘stupider’ wasn’t a word?” 

  
“Guess you must be rubbing off on me.”

  
He flushed his body up against yours, “I like rubbing off on you.”

  
You wrapped your arms around his neck as his arms circled around your back, “Maybe it’s not such a bad thing,” you replied and pulled him in for a tender kiss. 

  
“Oh, that reminds me, I got you something,” he said excitedly as he pulled his head back up, “move aside, it’s in the trunk.”

  
You scooted over and allowed him to open up the trunk and prop it up with his sawed off shotgun. He fidgeted around for a few seconds and then finally pulled out an all black gun, “It’s a Colt, similar to mine. I figured it’d be a good thing for you to have your own weapon.”

  
You were touched by his gift and thanked him as you held the gun in your hand for the first time, “Aww Dean, you got me a big, black glock. It’s just what every girl dreams of.”

  
“I see what you did there,” he said, shaking his head, “Well, I just love giving a girl glock. The bigger, the better I say. As long as she can handle a big glock.”

  
You reached around and squeezed his ass, “Oh, I think I can handle it just fine, Dean.”

  
He took the gun back and placed it in the trunk before slamming it shut, “One of these days, I’m gonna have you right where I want you and you won’t be able to tease me with that mouth of yours.”

  
You leaned into his chest and looked up towards him, “We’ll see about that, Dean.”

  
The sound of the gas pump clicking off brought you out of the flirtatious trance that Dean so easily pulled you into whenever the two of you were alone. Dean walked over to the pump and put it away, “Oh yeah, it’s already loaded up with ‘witch killing’ bullets for you too.”

  
The two of you climbed into the car to wait for Sam, when a thought popped into your head, “Oh, by the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you, if you get your hands on some extra angel blades, we need to start melting those down and turning them into bullets.”

  
He turned around from the front seat to face you, “What are you talking about?”

  
“Well, it was on the show later on, but I actually thought about this way before it was brought up, which made me feel super proud. But, just think about it Dean, if you take an angel blade, melt it down and cast the metal into bullets, you’ll get . . .” and you trailed off, hoping he would realize where you were going with the conversation. 

  
His eyes lit up, “Wait, are you talking about bullets that can kill angels?”

  
You nodded your head as he exclaimed, “Son of a bitch! Why didn’t I think of that?”

  
“Think of what?” Sam asked as he slid into the front seat of the Impala. 

  
“Oh nothing,” Dean answered calmly as he started up Baby, “She was just telling me how to make ‘angel killing’ bullets.”

  
“That’s a thing?” Sam asked in disbelief. 

  
“Yep, and if you play your cards right, I’ll tell you how to make them too. Now, hand over my chips and candy, Sam,” you ordered, tapping him on the shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas, Hanukkah or holiday season. This next chapter is going to be a long one, so bear with me and I promise it will be worth the wait! 😊 🎄


	21. Larry and The Three Witches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You, Sam and Dean hunt down the Loughlin’s and attempt to recover the “Black Grimoire”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter, so settle in. I hope you enjoy it!

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
It was around 9:30pm when you all finally arrived to a motel and checked in for the night. You told Sam that you and her were planning to head out to the bar to scope it out in preparation for tomorrow night. Sam wanted to stay back at the motel, so it would be just the two of you going out. 

  
“So, I guess this means you’re taking me on a real date, huh Dean?” she said teasingly as she made her way to the bathroom to change. 

  
“Only if you plan to put out sweetheart,” you answered. 

  
“Sure, deal,” she replied causally, turning around in the bathroom doorway.

  
You and Sam’s jaws both dropped. You licked your lips and were at a loss for words. She smiled and taunted, “But, you didn’t say it had to be with you,” before quickly closing the door behind her. 

  
You shook your head as Sam laughed, “Well, she’s got you there Dean.”

  
You laughed mockingly at him, “Ha ha ha, yeah shut up, bitch.”

  
“Jerk!”

  
You decided to wear the same clothes you had worn along the ride to town, blue jeans, a dark grey shirt and a black and white checkered flannel. But for some reason, she had insisted on changing clothes and promised it would be worth the wait. After a few minutes, she called out from behind the door, “Ok Dean, ready?”

  
“Yeah, yeah. Come on nerd, we’re wasting valuable drinking time!”

  
She opened the bathroom door and your stomach dropped. Her hair was in two braided pigtails and she was wearing cowboy boots, dark, tight jeans that hugged every curve of her body, a brown leather belt with an ornate silver buckle and a long sleeved, red and white checkered flannel was tucked into her jeans. She had several of the top buttons of her shirt undone, revealing just a little too much cleavage. She leaned against the door jam and nodded her head once before speaking in a Texan accent, “Howdy cowboy. Know where a little lady can find some fun?”

“_Well, yippie ki yay to me._”

  
After you stopped fantasizing about how you would love to take her and throw her down on the bed right then and there and give her the ride of her life, you stood up from the bed and started slowly walking towards her. A ghost of a smirk danced across her lips and her eyes were radiating with anticipation as you pretended to tip a hat at her, “Well ma’am, if you come with me, I think I can show you a good time.”

  
“I am so glad I decided to stay back here. Best decision of my life,” Sam called out from the table where he was working on his laptop. 

  
“Yeah, me too Sam. At this point, I probably would make you stay back anyway,” you replied, taking her hand in yours and leading her out the front door. You led her to Baby and opened the front door for her to climb in. She did a little curtsy before climbing in, “My, my, my aren’t we a gentleman.”

  
“Anything for a pretty little cowgirl like you,” you said with a wink as you closed her door. 

  
During the ten minute ride to the bar, she had her left arm wrapped around your shoulders and her hand played in your hair the whole time. She would gently rake her fingernails up and down your scalp or card her fingers through your hair. Meanwhile, you kept your right hand on her knee and let your thumb trace lazily up and down her leg. When the two of you arrived at the “Buckin’ Broncos Bar” you made your way in, hand in hand, and quickly found seats at the bar.   
You ordered two tequila shots for each of you, a beer for yourself and she opted for a Long Island. 

  
“So, you’re not gonna give me crap about my ‘_fru fru_’ drink?” she asked using her hands to make air quotes. 

  
“Well one, that drink does have like five or six different kinds of liquor in it and B, I’ve learned you can drink a lot, despite your choice of alcohol.”

  
She looked at you seductively and leaned in to whisper, “Sure it’s not because you’re trying to get in my pants?”

  
You slid your hand over and gripped the top of her thigh tightly, “I won’t have to try very hard to do that.”

  
She leaned back with a small smile, “We’ll see about that.”

  
After taking your first two shots and ordering two more, you quickly scanned the room and found that it was, luckily, a pretty simple layout. You could easily spot the back door from the bar, but it was the huge bull that quickly caught your attention. There was a crowd surrounding it and cheering on the current rider. The young blonde was doing her best to stay on the bull, but eventually, she was tossed to the side. You had always dreamt of riding a mechanical bull, but were slightly embarrassed to do it in front of her. 

  
She caught you staring at the bull, “Dean?”

  
“Uh, yeah, what is it?” you asked slamming back another shot. 

  
She kicked back another dose of tequila before answering, “You’re ogling Larry.”

  
“No I wasn’t, I was just checking out that bull over there.”

  
She giggled, “That is Larry. Larry is the bull.”

  
You looked to Larry then back to her, then back to Larry again and a lightbulb went off in your head. You pointed towards the bull, “That’s Larry?” She nodded and you let out a heavy sigh, “I was wondering who I was going to ride.”

  
She giggled and rubbed a hand up and down your arm, “Well, that’s him. You took a ride on him before losing your memory.”

  
You asked nervously, “Was I, was I any good?”

  
She bit her lip and slowly nodded her head, “You were amazing. Feel like showing me in person?”

  
“Well, uh, I don’t know,” you stuttered out, uncharacteristically self-conscious. 

  
She took a long gulp from her drink, “What if I go first?”

  
“(Y/N), you just knocked yourself out yesterday after slamming that big noggin’ of yours against mine and now you want to get tossed around by hundreds of pounds of mechanical bull?”

  
She shrugged a shoulder, “What have I got to lose?” She easily downed her fourth shot of tequila and hopped up from her stool. You slapped her on the ass, causing her to squeal, but her step never faltered as she made her way over to the bull operator. You ordered two more shots and watched as she climbed up onto Larry. 

  
“_Son of a bitch. I can’t believe she is gonna do this_,” you thought as you took another shot. 

  
She grabbed the handlebar with her left hand and just before the bull started tossing her around, she blew you a kiss. Her right arm flailed back and forth as the bull bucked, turned and jumped in the air. There was one point where you saw panic flash across her face as her grip slightly loosened from the handle, but she was able to hold on and regained her balance. It must’ve seemed like an eternity to her, but after only thirty seconds, the bull came to a halt and everyone cheered, including you, “Yeah! That’s my girl,” you cheered and whistled at her. 

She returned to the bar, cheeks flushed, eyes shining brilliantly with excitement and you noticed several strands of hair had escaped from her pigtails. She was beaming from ear to ear and before she could take her seat back beside you, you hopped down and pulled her into a firm embrace. You ran one hand up her back until it was gripping the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a hard kiss. She was surprised, but quickly began to move her lips against yours and soon, you felt her hands inside the back pockets of your jeans, pulling you closer to her. When you could no longer breathe, you leaned back, gasping for air and said, “That was fucking awesome.”

  
She looked flustered, “Which part, cowboy?”

  
“All of it,” you answered while licking your lips, “I can see why you would enjoy watching me do that.”

  
She squeezed your ass, “Well partner, get on up there and show me what you got.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You took another shot of tequila, vowing that it would be your last one since you could feel yourself warming up from the liquor. Although, you weren’t sure if it was that, the assault Dean had just laid to your lips or the fact that he was getting settled onto Larry for a ride. He made eye contact with you and flashed a dazzling smile and a wink before the bull took off. 

  
You had your back to the bar, elbows resting on the bartop and were simply enjoying the view before you. Dean masterfully arched his back as the bull bucked him around. The way he moved was giving you sinfully delicious thoughts, causing you to cross your legs back and forth, subconsciously in search of friction. In no time at all, he had conquered Larry and was sliding into the stool next to you once again. He was breathing heavily and you could tell he was riding an adrenaline rush, “Well, have fun?”

  
“Oh yeah, that was awesome,” he said taking a swig of his beer. 

  
You continued to stare at his profile, dazed by his beauty. His cheeks were slightly pinkened and his hairline was glistening with a slight sheen of sweat from the exertion of riding the bull, but he was still grinning from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas morning. He turned his head to look at you, “What? What is it?”

“It’s just, I’m not used to seeing you smile so much. It’s been a really nice change.”

  
Instead of saying anything, he simply reached over to grab your hand and stroked his thumb back and forth across the palm of your hand. 

  
“Dean?”

  
“Hmmm?”

  
“I have a weird request.”

  
He looked at you inquisitively, “Ok . . .”

  
“Pinch me.”

  
“What?” he asked, squinting his eyes. 

  
“Sometimes, it still doesn’t feel like this is real. Pinch me.”

  
He grabbed a chunk of flesh from your thigh and pinched, not too hard, but enough to slightly sting. 

  
“Ouch! Ok, yeah yeah. I guess I believe it’s all still real.”

  
He finished his beer and slid off his stool, “Come on, I have a weird request too.”

  
“Wait, what is it?” you asked as he pulled you towards the door.

  
“Just follow me,” he said seriously. 

  
Dean led you back to Baby, who was parked in the back of the bar’s parking lot. A few other cars scattered the area, but for the most part, the outside area was deserted. He opened the front, driver door and had you climb in and slide over as he took his usual seat in front of the steering wheel. Once the door was closed, his full, pink lips crashed down onto yours. You could still taste the beer on his lips, and even though you hated it, when it was mixed with his own unique flavor, you didn’t mind it at all. His right hand grabbed the back of your neck while his left hand squeezed your right thigh. Your lips continued to push and nip against one another as your right hand stroked his cheek. 

  
When he finally pulled away, you asked breathlessly, “Dean, that wasn’t such a weird request. We could’ve just done that in the bar.”

  
His green, gemlike eyes sparkled in the moonlight, “That’s not what I wanted.” Unexpectedly, you felt his left hand move and start to unbutton your jeans. 

  
“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked shakily, narrowing your eyes, “I thought you were gonna wait until you made me beg for you to take me? I haven’t heard no begging yet from my side.”

  
He stared at you like you were a piece of meat, ready to be devoured, “Seeing you up there tonight, I just . . . I just wanna touch you, sweetheart.”

  
“You are touching me Dean,” you uttered, barely above a whisper as you heard the metallic *_zip_* of him sliding the zipper down your jeans. 

  
Biting his lip, he responded, “No, I wanna touch you here.” As he finished his sentence, you felt his hand dip into the front of your jeans and his index finger stroked lazily across the thin piece of fabric covering your wet slit.

  
You dropped your head forward and closed your eyes. He continued to run his finger back and forth and whispered, “This feel real to you too, princess.”

  
“Mmmhmm,” was all you managed to utter in response. 

  
“Hmmm, no witty comeback for me this time?”

  
You looked up at him, trying to be serious, “Dean, I will . . .” but your words were caught off by a moan as he slid your underwear to the side and dipped two fingers in between your folds.

  
You were already soaked with arousal and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. He practically growled, “Damn babe, I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so wet.”

  
“Yeah, yeah. I guess you kind of turn me on,” you managed to respond snarkily. 

  
“Feelings mutual,” he replied as he continued to lazily move his hand against your pussy. You started to yearn for more contact, so you lifted up your hips slightly so that you could slide your jeans and underwear down to your knees. He had to remove his hand from you for a slight second and took the opportunity to suck on his own two fingers that were covered in your juices. You stared at him as his tongue greedily cleaned his digits. He moaned, “Princess, you taste fucking delicious.”

  


  
“_No he did not just do that! Holy shit, this man is going to kill me one day._”

  
You grabbed his hand and guided it back to your center, “Well, don’t let me stop you from having seconds.”

  
You felt him cup you and his thumb started to leisurely circle your clit. Little bolts of lightening shot out across your body and you grabbed the sides of his open flannel for something to hold onto. Then, you felt his middle finger at your entrance. He looked at you questioning and you answered with a nod, lips parted to allow shallow, quick breaths in and out of your lungs. He pressed onward and you felt a deep pressure as part of his body entered you for the first time. You let out a guttural moan as he gasped, “Shit princess, how are you so tight?”

  
You took a couple of deep breaths to steady yourself, “Well, I do kegel exercises.” When he gave you a blank stare, you explained, “It’s exercises women can do to strengthen and tighten their vaginal muscles. See,” you said as you squeezed your internal muscles around his finger. 

  
His eyes widened, “Fuck, that’s hot.” His finger finally bottomed out in you and he crooked it up, causing you to arch your back up towards him, pushing your breasts into his chest. He withdrew himself until he was almost completely out, then slid his finger back in again. He continued to pump away into you for several, long luscious minutes. You were vaguely aware of him staring at you and paying attention to every sound you made as he crooked his finger here and there to see what kind of different responses he could illicit from you. 

  
Finally, he added his index finger inside of you and leaned down to nip at your collarbone with his pearly, white teeth. His thumb continued to circle and occasionally pressed down directly onto your clit. The only sounds in the car were those of your heavy breathing and occasional one worded profanities or his name being called out like a prayer from your lips. 

  
He picked up the pace and you started to lift your hips up to meet his thrusts as you felt a growing pressure inside of you. He crooked his fingers at the end of every stroke and leaned back to watch you as you came undone from his touch. You looked into his darkened eyes, “Dean . . . . Oh God . . . . Oh shit . . . Fuck. I think, Dean . . . Dean . . . I’m . . . I’m . . .”

  
“Come on Princess, come for me babe.”

  
You lifted your hips up several more times and then gripped his shirt harder as hot, white tingles radiated out from your pussy when your orgasm came crashing down around you. You felt the muscles in your legs tremble as you moaned out Dean’s name. He continued to press his thumb down on your clit, sending little aftershocks through you. He continued to slowly pump his two fingers in and out of you as you rode your high. When it became too much to bear, you reached down and stopped his hand from moving. 

  
He pulled out and brought his hand up to his mouth once more to clean himself off, “You’re right little lady, seconds are better.”

  
You grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and pulled him in for a desperate kiss, not caring that you could taste yourself on his tongue. When you finally did release him, you saw that his eyes were slightly hooded.

  
“Dean,” you uttered, trying to catch your breath, “If that’s your weird request, I look forward to more of them.”

  
“Well, I got a whole list full of ideas,” he answered, regaining his composure. 

  
You smiled lazily back at him, endorphins running through you in the afterglow of your orgasm, “Well, I look forward to crossing them off then.” You started to pull up your underwear and jeans, when he stopped you. 

  
“Woman, what the hell is on your underwear?”

  
You looked down and remembered that your black underwear was covered in glasses and little lightening bolts. You couldn’t help but to laugh, “Well, I didn’t expect any of this tonight, so it’s um, it’s a pair of ‘Harry Potter’ underwear.”

  
He gave you a snarky look as he allowed you to continue to pull up your clothes, “Are you telling me that I just fingered a girl wearing fucking wizard panties?”

  
“Yep! Joke’s on you Dean,” you replied sassily as you buttoned up your jeans and tucked in your shirt. 

  
He leaned in closer and, just before he kissed you again, he whispered against your lips, “My God, you are a fucking adorable, sexy, little nerd.”

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
The next morning, the three of you were getting ready to investigate the office of ‘Gilman, Gilbert & Sons Wealth Management’ to find the Loughlin’s home address. Sam and you were finishing up your morning coffee while she changed in the bathroom. The two of you sat in silence and, while you should have been going over the plan in your head, you couldn’t help but to replay the scene from last night. 

  
You weren’t sure what had came over you, but without warning, you had a primal need to just fucking touch her and try to make her feel as good as you felt when you were around her. You had thoroughly enjoyed watching the way her inhibitions fell away under your touch, the way she had moaned your name and breathed heavily against you with her eyes closed and mouth rounded in an “O” shape and the squeeze of her tight pussy on your fingers when she finally came. You knew there was a sexual vixen underneath her layers of nerdom and sass and you couldn’t wait to see more of it. 

  
You felt yourself start to harden as your thoughts looped round and round, so you quickly tried to shake them away before it would become too embarrassing for you to stand or walk. However, when she stepped out in her FBI outfit, the same one she had tried on in the mall that day, you knew you were screwed. 

  
You wiggled your eyebrows and stood to make your way over to her, “Me likey.”

“Dean, I think I could wear a paper bag and you’d approve.”

  
“Yeah, probably,” you replied, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. 

  
Sam opened the motel door, “Ok, let’s go guys, we’re burning daylight.”

  
You held out your arm for her, “Agent Dren? Ready to go?”

  
She slid her arm through yours, “Why yes Agent Plant, I am.”

  
Twenty minutes later, after introducing yourselves to the office manager, you were sifting through the papers and personal items of Barry Gilman. You noticed a brown, wooden box on his desk and opened it up. You let out a soft chuckle as you pulled out a cigar and sniffed it before sliding it into your pocket, “Heh heh, douche tax.” 

  
Sam and her laughed out loud, causing you to look up at them in curiosity, “What? Something funny?”

  
Sam was still laughing, but she answered, “I told Sam that that was going to happen and he didn’t believe me. You actually ended up with two of them since you had to come back twice.”

  
You reached in and took another cigar, “Well then, better take two this time as well.”

  
After a few more minutes of searching, Sam spoke up, “Hey guys, check it out. I think I found something.”

  
You and (Y/N) approached the file cabinet that Sam was rummaging through. He pulled out a file and you could see it had “Loughlin” emblazoned across the front.

  
“Jackpot!” you exclaimed. 

  
Sam opened up the file and skimmed through the pages, “Ok, looks like our witches live at 1919 Lightening Mill road.”

  
“Great,” she said with a small smile, “So, we take out Gideon and then head over to their home and take care of the rest of them. Oh, that reminds me,” she said turning and walking over to a wall of pictures. She pointed to one with Barry and a skinny, balding man with a blue coat, “Take a good look at this picture fellas, because this here is Gideon.”

  
“Got it,” Sam said as you nodded your head. 

  
“So, why don’t we bippity boppity boop our way back to the motel until tonight and then we’ll gank some witches and steal a powerful spell book,” you suggested. 

  
“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Sam said as he headed towards the door. 

  
She started to follow behind him, but you pulled her back and turned her to face you, “Hey, I wanted to ask you something.”

  
She eyed you with curiosity, “Ok . . .”

  
You leaned in closed and whispered in her ear, “What kind of panties are you wearing today, nerd?”

  
You pulled back and watched as she smirked before leaning up to whisper her answer, “Who says I’m wearing any?” she replied before licking the outer shell of your ear. 

  
You swallowed hard and saw mischief dancing in her sparkling eyes before she turned and headed towards the exit. You let out a heavy sigh through pursed lips, adjusted yourself and then followed after her. 

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
Dean had suggested you stop to pick up something to eat and take it back to the motel for lunch. He had ran into the diner to pick up your order, leaving you and Sam alone in the Impala. It was very rare for you to be alone with Sam and there was something you had been wanting to get off your chest. 

  
You leaned forward and threw your arms over the bench before nervously asking, “Hey Sam?”

  
Sam was typing away on his cellphone and answered without looking up, “Yeah?”

  
“I . . . uh . . . there’s something important I want to ask you. And, I want you to be completely honest with me.”

  
His typing slowed down, but he still kept his eyes on his phone, “Ok . . . shoot.”

  
“It’s just,” you took a deep breath, “I just want to know how you feel about all of this.”

  
He finally looked to you, “All of what?”

  
“Well, this,” you said pointing to yourself and the empty driver’s seat.

  
“Ahhhhh,” he said nodding in understanding. 

  
“It’s just that, I know you and Dean have an extremely close relationship and I love that. I would never want to change that or come in between it. And, I realize that you two have been hunting together for over a decade and how strange it must be to have a third wheel along all of a sudden, all the time.”

  
“I see,” he said, his expression unchanged. 

  
“So, despite whatever is going on with Dean and I, I don’t want you to feel ignored or like you don’t have a say in what happens. I know how much the two of you mean to one another and there’s no way I would want to jeopardize or change that.”

  
Sam nodded along as you spoke and when he could tell you were finished, he reached back and squeezed your shoulder, “(Y/N), trust me, if I had a problem with this, you would know. Just the fact that you thought to ask me, personally, without Dean around to back you up or defend you, proves how cool and understanding you are.”

  
You didn’t realize how tense you had been until he squeezed your shoulder in reassurance. You blushed at his words and relaxed a little as he continued to speak, “Besides, when you’re around, Dean is a lot easier to tolerate.”

  
“Really?” you asked in disbelief. 

  
“Yeah, I can see how happy he is with you. You should’ve seen how moody he was in L.A. But at night, when he would text or call you, he smiled like a teenage girl watching her favorite boy band or something. I gave him a lot of crap about it,” Sam finished with a small smirk. 

  
You leaned forward and gave him a hug, “Thanks, Sam. That means a lot to me. But, if you ever do feel like you need some alone, brotherly time with Dean or want to go on a hunt alone, just the two of you, let me know and I will have no problem stepping back, ok?”

  
Sam hugged you tightly, “Deal.”

  
The front door opened and Dean slid in the front seat. He caught the two of you hugging and asked, “Awwww, did I miss a nice bonding moment out here?”

  
Sam gave a small laugh and you answered, “Actually, we were just discussing our plans to run away together once I got tired of you, right Sam?”

  
Dean gave Sam a bitch face as Sam answered, “Yep, that’s right. We’re totally gonna ditch you bro.”

  
Dean continued to silently stare between the two of you and finally, you and Sam broke out into roaring laughter. You slid over behind Dean and patted him on the shoulder, “Aww Dean, you’re just so fun to mess with.”

  
He shrugged your hand away, “Not cool guys. Not cool.”

You looked back at Sam and he gave you a little wink before Dean threw Baby in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot a little too fast. When he was back on the road, you leaned in and whispered in his left ear, “Aww Dean, you know you’re the only Winchester I’ve ever been interested in,” before planting a kiss on his neck. 

  
“Sure, sure,” he replied sarcastically. But, you could tell by the dramatic roll of his eyes and the way he lowered one hand from the steering wheel that you had reassured him of his position with you. 

  
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully and soon enough, you and Dean were back at the bar, sipping on soda and waiting for Gideon to, hopefully, arrive. 

  
“Sure you’re ready for this, princess?” Dean asked as he took a sip of his drink, “God this tastes awful without whiskey.”

  
“Yes Dean, I’m sure. Once we get this all taken care of, I’ll make you a real drink, deal?”

  
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” he said as he leaned in to give you a kiss. 

  
When Dean pulled away, a flash of blue in your peripheral vision caught your attention. You discreetly patted Dean on the leg, “Hey, I think that’s him at my nine o’clock. Can you tell if that’s him?”

  
Dean casually glanced around the bar before looking back, “Yep, that’s our guy. Give me a few minutes to get outside with Sam and then lead him out the back door.”

  
You rolled your eyes, “Yes, I know Dean. Don’t you forget about the security camera back there.”

  
“Don’t worry now, Sam should’ve taken care of it,” he finished his drink and wiggled his eyebrows, “See ya real soon.”

  
Dean took his leave and headed out the front door. Gideon was at a table alone near the back of the bar. After a few minutes, you picked up your drink and sauntered over to his table, “Gideon Loughlin?”

  
You felt extremely uncomfortable as his eyes roamed up and down your body before settling on your chest, “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

  
You pulled out your badge from your back pocket, “I’m Agent Dren with the FBI,” you said warningly as you slid in the seat next to him. 

  
Gideon seemed unfazed by your feigned authority, “Well, you certainly don’t look like an agent.”

  
“Technically I’m off duty, but I was actually going to visit you at your home tomorrow. I recognized you from your picture in Barry Gilman’s office. Can I ask you a few questions about him?”

  
At the mention of the money manager, Gideon jumped out of his seat, “Now’s not really a good time.”

  
You blocked his path to the front door, forcing him to either attack or head for the backdoor, “Look Mr. Loughlin, we can either do this quietly or I can come by your residence tomorrow, drag you to the police station and be all official about this.”

  
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, agent,” Gideon replied snarkily as he turned and headed for the back exit.”

  
You followed behind him, calling out his name, until he was out the back door. Once the door closed behind him, you stopped and waited a few moments to make sure he didn’t try to run back in. Once enough time had passed that you were satisfied he had been taken care of, you exited through the door. 

  
You were taken aback by a gun suddenly six inches from your face, but once Dean realized it was you, he quickly dropped his weapon, “Hey there sweetheart.”

  
“Well, that’s one way to say ‘hello’,” you replied shakily. 

  
“Sorry, just making sure no one else was following him.”

  
“Well, did you get him? You and Sam ok?”

  
“Yeah, as soon as he came out the door, Sam had a clear shot and took him out. We just got done hiding his body.”

  
The realization of what you were doing hit you and for a brief second you couldn’t believe you were casually discussing the death and disposal of another human being. “_Not a human, a witch. Remember, they are witches who have hurt countless people and would look to hurt you and the Winchesters._”

  
“I’m glad you’re both ok,” you replied quietly. 

  
“Thanks to you. Now, what do you say we poof on over to that house and brew up a little trouble? Huh, huh?” Dean said, expecting praise for his pun. 

  
You gave him a blank stare, “Dean, you say things like that and then have the audacity to call me a nerd?”

  
The small smile across his beautiful, rosy pink lips disappeared as he looked away in shame.

  
You cupped his cheek, “Hey, hey, it’s ok. It was actually pretty cute. I really love it when you’re dorky like that.”

  
“Really?” he asked in disbelief. 

  
“Yes, yes I do,” you replied, nodding your head several times.

  
Dean lit up, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he smiled and grabbed your hand to lead you back towards the Impala to meet up with Sam, “Well then, come _witch_ me and let’s finish up this case.” And even though you knew it was completely corny, you squeezed his hand as you let out a small chuckle. 

  
Twenty minutes later, you had arrived at the Loughlin home. Sam had managed to interrogate the guard that was standing outside and found out there was no one else inside besides Boyd and Catriona. In a flash, Sam’s hands were on the man’s neck and you heard a sickening *_crack_* as he snapped the guard’s neck. 

  
“_Holy shit!_” You thought, managing to contain a whimper. You knew that Sam and Dean were powerful, virile hunters, but to see it actually in person, was definitely going to take some getting used to. 

  
The three of you entered the mansion, with Dean and Sam in front and you bringing up the rear. You quietly stalked through the front hall and when you made it to the foyer, Dean held up a fist, signaling for you and Sam to stop. 

  
Even though you were several feet behind him, you could see it was the same room that Catriona and Rowena had their final showdown in. Dean let out a high pitched whistle and within a few moments, you heard footsteps approaching from upstairs. Dean had his gun aimed and soon let out a solitary shot. The noise startled you, but you were able to maintain your composure. He and Sam stepped forward in the room, but you hung back for an extra beat. 

  
“_Abi_!” a female voice called out as Sam and Dean were flung off their feet. Sam had been pinned against the wall directly in front of you and Dean was out of sight, but you had heard the sound of glass shattering when he was tossed out of view.

  
“Boyd! Boyd!” the voice called out in agony, “What did you two do to him?!” You slid behind one of the doorways off the hallway when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. You immediately recognized the blonde, curly hair of Catriona Loughlin as soon as she stepped onto the first floor. 

  
“No matter, I’ll just use one of you to bring him back and the other, we’ll keep as a pet,” she said with fierce rage as she looked between the brothers. “Either one have a preference as to who lives and who dies?”

  
“Sorry Sabrina,” you said stepping out of the shadows, with Dean’s gift pointed directly at her heart, “but your days of bitchcraft are over.”

  
She turned and looked to you, “Please. A gun? You really think that’s gonna work on a . . .”

  
But her words trailed off as you fired your gun, sending a witch killing bullet directly into her heart. She dropped to the floor, knees buckling underneath of her. Sam and Dean were released from her grip, but you were frozen, gun still pointed at where Catriona had been standing moments before. 

  
“_Did I . . . Did I really just shoot someone?_” you thought in a panic. 

  
“_Not someone, a witch. Remember, it was a witch. A WITCH. A monster,” _you thought, trying to reasssure yourself. 

You had been so caught up in your own thoughts, that you didn’t realize Dean had approached you until he was helping to lower your gun so it was pointed towards the floor. 

  
“Earth to (Y/N),” Dean said tentatively, “Are you in there?”

  
You felt Dean’s strong hand rubbing up and down your back and that somehow managed to ground you back to reality, “Yeah, it’s just. . . . it’s one thing to practice shooting a target and another to actually kill something, especially when they don’t look like a monster.”

  
“Hey, look at me,” Dean commanded forcefully, but you were still unable to move. He came around and bent down slightly so you were forced to look directly into his comforting green eyes, “You just saved Sam and I from that witch. You saved me from almost losing my memory and you probably saved a lot more people from being manipulated by them and their stupid spellbook.”

  
You nodded, but didn’t say anything back. Dean continued, “Look, if this is too much, you can stay back next time.”

  
That snapped you out of your hypnotic state and reminded you that you truly did want to be here in Dean’s world, helping him and Sam as much as possible. Your eyes focused on Dean intensely, “No way, I’m fine. It was just startling at first, but I’ll be fine.”

  
Dean didn’t look convinced, but before he could say anything else, Sam stepped into the hallway, “Ok, I got the book. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

During the ride back to the motel, she had been disconcertingly quiet as she stared out the back window of Baby. Her eyes remained hauntingly vacant as she helped to clean the glass out of your wounds once you reached the room and you knew that something inside of her had changed forever. Whether it was for the worse or not, you couldn’t quite be sure. 

  
“_Sure, she said she was fine, that’d she’d be fine. But fine does not mean she’s entirely happy about what she did. Fine is just . . . . fine, not good or bad. It’s just . . . fine._”

  
She didn’t say much for the rest of the night, and Sam took notice too, looking at you inquisitively as she climbed silently into bed after taking a shower. You shrugged your shoulders and slid in to take your usual position behind her. You pulled her tightly against your chest, trying to comfort her, and whispered, “Night princess,” but all she said back in response was a quiet, “Hmmm.” As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but to feel that it was your fault that she lost a little piece of her innocence tonight when she was reborn as a full fledged hunter after her first monster kill. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much happening here! A little smutty goodness and the reader has mixed emotions about her first kill. Let me know what you think about everything! 😊


	22. The Road to Indianapolis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the Winchesters are hot on Lucifer’s trail and you struggle with figuring out how to change everyone’s fate for the better.

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
After loading up the Impala the next morning, you and the Winchester brothers were headed back to the bunker. Your mined replayed yesterday’s events over and over as you leaned up against the passenger rear door, stretched out across the back seat. You were still unexpectedly shaken by it all and could feel Dean occasionally eyeing you through the rear view mirror. When you did catch his eye, you smiled, reassuring him that everything was fine. The soothing sound of “_Simple Man_” by Lynyrd Skynyrd filled the air as you continued to cruise down the backroad, until Sam spoke up, “Hey, check this out.”

  
You sat up and leaned forward, “Did you find another case?”

  
Sam scrolled through a news story on his phone, “Actually, I think I may have found a lead on Lucifer. This billionaire, Wallace Parker, was found dead in his office. They say his body was damaged by an explosion, but the details make it sound like it was actually Lucifer burning through another vessel.”

  
Dean gave Sam a side glance, “Well, he did say he was moving on to ‘bigger and better’ things in L.A., so a billionaire would definitely fall into that category.”

  
“His body is undergoing an autopsy right now, just a few hours away. We could make it by the end of the day and check it out ourselves,” Sam offered. 

  
Dean looked back to you and then to Sam, contemplating his decision. 

  
  


“Winchester,” you spoke up, “Don’t look at me like that. I said I’m fine. Plus, it’s just a body and we’ll just be investigating to see if it really was Lucifer’s latest vessel.”

  
“All right, let’s check it out,” Dean said reluctantly. 

  
You sat back, feeling victorious as a smile crept across your face. But then, you remembered that Crowley and Castiel had been at the morgue when Sam and Dean had shown up. You tried to maintain your satisfied smile on the outside, but inside you were mentally preparing yourself to come face to face with the King of Hell for the first time, in the flesh. 

  
Several hours later, you and the Winchesters entered the morgue and approached a middle aged African American mortician. The three of you held out badges, but he barely even glanced at them as he folded up the file in his hand and waved you aside, “Your colleagues are already inside.”

  
Sam and Dean gave each other a confused look until they peered through the glass and saw Castiel and Crowley already standing over the billionaire’s corpse. 

  
Sam sighed and Dean hissed out through gritted teeth, “Son of a bitch.” 

  
Sam lead the way into the room while Dean tried to keep you safely tucked behind him. 

“Agents,” Crowley and Castiel stated calmly as you all entered the room. However, you couldn’t help but to notice that Castiel looked slightly disappointed to see you.

  
Crowley, on the other hand, perked up when he spotted you behind Dean, “Well, well, well. This must be the little mouse I didn’t get to meet in L.A. Doesn’t she look delicious enough to eat.”

  
You mustered all of your confidence and stepped around Dean, “Fergus, since we’re probably going to be spending a lot of time around each other, you should call me by my real name. I’m (Y/N), not ‘little mouse’.”

  
Sam chortled, Castiel gave you a small smile and you beamed with pride as the smug smile left Crowley’s face. 

  
“Well, (Y/N),” Crowley replied in a threatening tone, “you should know that only my mother is allowed to call me by my real name. It’s Crowley to you.”

  
“I don’t know, I think I like the sound of Fergus a lot better,” you replied as Dean once again managed to pull you back so you were standing behind him, but slightly off to the side so you could still see everything that was going on in the room. 

  
Crowley noticed this and looked between you and Dean, “Hmmm, well maybe chipmunk is a better name for you besides little mouse.”

  
Dean reached across the table that held Parker’s corpse, which was covered by a white sheet, to snatch the badge off of Crowley’s suit, “Okay, this has gotta stop. All right, give me that.”

  
Crowley’s attention was redirected as he exclaimed warningly, “Armani!” 

  
Sam held up his hands, indicating for everyone to calm down, “Okay enough. Let’s have a look,” he said as he pulled back on the drape. There, on the cold, metallic grey table laid the body of Wallace Parker. His skin was pale and tight, except on his face. His forehead was splotchy with blackened spots and the skin surrounding his eye sockets was reddened and charred.

  
“Ooh, looks like somebody forgot to put on his sunscreen,” Dean commented, causing you to let out a small laugh.

  
Castiel spoke up, “This _was_ Wallace Parker, the very powerful CEO of almost everything.”

  
“And apparently, Lucifer’s latest vessel,” Sam stated. 

  
“I guess he wasn’t strong enough to hold him,” you added. 

  
“Precisely chipmunk,” Crowley said, causing you to give him an annoyed look, “Lucifer’s not content with slutting it from one random vessel to the next. He’s moving on to blue chips – celebrities and captains of industry. He just got a lot more dangerous.”

  
“I agree with agent Zappa,” Cas said with a nod. 

  
Dean let out a heavy sigh and shook his head at Castiel, “Oh, will you stop?”

  
“So, I guess we keep an eye out on major public figures for any odd behavior until we find Lucifer again, right?” you asked. 

  
Sam nodded his head, “Yeah, that’s all we can do.”

  
Dean grabbed your hand and started to lead you out of the room, “Well, let us know if you two find anything,” he called out, looking to Castiel and Crowley. You looked back one final time and were taken aback when Crowley gave you a small grin and wink as you left his presence and you couldn’t help but to wonder if it was a playful or threatening action.

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“I can’t believe you had the guts to call Crowley by his human name,” you said, looking back to her as you parked Baby in the bunker’s garage. 

  
“Hey, he was calling me a rodent! Fergus was the nicest of all the options I was thinking of,” she said as she exited the Impala. 

  
“I don’t know,” Sam said as he headed to the trunk to retrieve his bag, “I think the whole ‘chipmunk’ reference was kind of cute. I might have to start using that.”

  
She slapped your brother on the chest, causing him to laugh, “Sam, I swear if you do that, I will cut your hair in your sleep.”

  
Sam held up his hands in surrender, “Kidding, only kidding (Y/N).”

  
You finally made your way around to them and wrapped your arm around her waist, “Come on Rambo, let’s head inside. We can grab a cold drink and see if we can find anymore signs of Lucifer before he burns through another vessel.”

  
She gave Sam a death stare, before finally allowing herself to be pulled away by you, “Fine . . .”

  
Twenty minutes later, you and Sam had your laptops set up in the library, furiously searching for any signs of the devil. She had offered to go to the kitchen for refreshments. She sat an open beer down in front of you and Sam before pulling up a seat besides you. You were momentarily distracted as her beautiful, pink lips wrapped around the top of her black cherry wine cooler as she took a long swig. 

  
She relaxed against the back of the wooden chair and looked to you, “So, find anything yet? Find anyone powerful or respectable that suddenly changed, exploded or died in a mysterious fire?”

  
Sam took a drink of his beer before flipping his laptop around so you and she could see the news article he was looking at, “Well, this is pretty interesting. This is the Archbishop of St. Louis with Wallace Parker.”

  
“So?” you responded. 

  
Sam continued, “So, that was him three days ago and this,” Sam typed a few keys on his laptop, “is him last night at the opening of a food kitchen. Notice anything missing?”

  
You flipped through the pictures once more before answering, “Yeah, the big mother of a cross around his neck.”

  
Sam wagged his finger, “Exactly. And this morning, his office canceled all further public appearances without comment.”

  
“Ok, so you’re thinking that, uh, Lucifer blasted out of Parker and into his buddy the Archbishop here,” you replied

  
She leaned forward, “It would be a step onward and upward, right?”

  
Sam nodded, “Exactly. It’s worth checking out.”

  
“All right, St. Louis here we come. We’ll head out first thing in the morning,” you announced. 

  
“Sounds good,” she confirmed. 

  
You looked to her with trepidation, “Now babe, you don’t have to come along for this you know, it’ll practically be a milk run.”

  
“Well, lucky for you Dean, I like grocery shopping,” she responded cheerfully. 

  
You said her name, trying to think of a logical reason for her to stay behind, but she quickly interrupted you, “No way. I stayed behind while you went to L.A. and I’m not doing that again. I’m coming with you Winchester.”

  
You knew it was a losing battle, despite how much you wanted to protect her. She had proven herself twice, once with Asa and now with the witches. Even if it was Lucifer, you knew there was no way she was staying behind, “Fine, but you listen to Sam and I, got it?”

  
“I promise to be on my best behavior,” she said crossing her heart and leaning in to give you a kiss on the cheek. She finished her drink and stood up from the table, “Well, I’m going to change and head to bed. See you upstairs,” she said as she rubbed your shoulder before exiting the library. 

  
Sam shook his head, “Dean, when are you going to stop trying to get her to stay back from hunts.”

  
“Honestly? Probably never.”

  
“You know she’s a part of this now. She’s going to be there with us, no matter how much you try to stop her.”

  
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” you said defeated as you too finished your drink and followed after her to bed. 

  


*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
It was just after sundown the next evening when the three of you pulled into the Archdiocese of St. Louis. Thankfully, you knew what had happened here, so you were able to mentally prepare yourself for the gory carnage that laid behind the massive wooden doors. 

  
“_Does this make me an evil person for letting these men die? No, remember, it’s all for Jack. Jack needs to be born. He’s special. Besides, they’re in heaven now, right?_”

  
When you had decided to do whatever it took to make sure Jack was born, you hadn’t thought about all the difficult choices you would have to make or the lives that would be affected by your decision. You just continued to hope that it would all be worth it in the end. Rain pelted against the metal roof of the Impala as it came to a halt just before Dean pulled in under the car port. The three of you exited Baby and quickly approached the front door.

  
“It’s awfully quiet,” Dean noted. 

  
Sam wiped away the excess water from his suit, “Yeah, I put in a dozen calls to the Chief of Staff. No one returned.”

  
“That’s comforting,” you said sarcastically. 

  
Dean took in the surrounding area outside, “Well, we’ll have a look around. If it is Lucifer, we’ll call the rest of the Scooby gang.”

  
“You mean ‘F squared’?” you asked. He and Sam raised his eyebrows at you, “Heh, I just thought of it. Feathers and Fergus. Get it?”

  
Sam rolled his eyes and Dean chuckled, “Nice, I like it.”

  
Sam reached up to press the doorbell, but there was no sound or indication that it was working, “Great.”

  
Dean lifted the heavy knocker and slammed it against the wooden door several times while Sam checked to see if it was unlocked. When no one answered, Sam pulled out his pickpocketing kit and picked the lock. It was pitch black, so you all turned on your flashlights and entered the building. Sam tried to turn on the lights, but he quickly discovered that there was no electricity. As you made your way through the building, Sam and Dean were shocked to find papers and furniture overturned as well as most of the clergy dead and you did your best to pretend to be surprised as well.

  
You entered one room and Dean approached a priest who was laying on the floor, still breathing, “Father, hey. What happened?”

  
The man was dressed in typical priestly attire, but blood dripped down his face and you could see that his mouth was a darkened from pooled blood. His breathing was labored and he groaned as he answered, “We . . . we knew something was wrong. He . . . he . . .”

  
“The Archbishop,” Dean said, helping to fill in the priest’s missing words.

  
“Uh-huh. Senior staff decided to handle internally and intervene,” the man continued as his breathing became more shaky. 

  
Dean looked up to you and Sam in realization, “An exorcism.” Dean looked back to the priest, but his eyes were shut and he was no longer breathing.

  
You exhaled and closed your eyes as you thought, “_I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for the pain you had to go through._”

  
The three of you continued up the stairs, finding a man pinned to the wall by a flag pole and every single cross on the wall was flipped upside down. Dean slowed his pace and whispered in your ear, “You doing ok, princess?” You looked back to him and nodded in reassurance. 

Dean held out his gun as you approached the Archbishop’s office. He circled the desk and signaled for you and Sam to join him. There on the floor, laid Lucifer’s most recent vessel. His face was bloodied and eye sockets were charred, just like the body of Wallace Parker’s had been when Lucifer was through with him. 

  
Dean exhaled sharply, “Well, I guess you were right Sammy. Looks like this was Lucifer’s latest meat suit.”

  
“Too bad we couldn’t catch him before he jumped ship to the next vessel,” you commented. 

  
“Well, no more we can do here,” Dean said as he placed his hand in yours, “Let’s head back home.”

  
The three of you made your way down the stairs back towards the front door, with Sam stopping occasionally to take pictures along the way. Dean drove through the night, not wanting to stop at a motel for the night. It was 2:00am and Sam had fallen asleep about an hour ago. You were fighting to stay awake, not wanting to leave Dean up by himself. He could tell that you were fading, “Babe, it’s OK. I’ve driven through the night before. Get a little sleep.”

  


You were leaned forward across the bench of the front seat with your head resting against his right shoulder when you unintentionally let out a mouth widening yawn, “No way Dean. If you’re awake, I’m awake.”

  
“You know, you’re really fucking stubborn.”

  
“Dean, you realize that’s the pot calling the kettle black, right?”

  
“Yeah yeah, nerd,” he replied as he turned his head to plant a kiss on the top of your head. 

  
By 5:00am you all had made it safely back to the bunker. However, when you climbed into bed with Dean, you felt the need to face him and curl up into his chest. You tucked your head underneath his chin and felt comforted by his strong arms wrapped around your back. You snuggled in close and whispered, “Night Dean.” 

  
“Night princess,” he uttered softly as he ran his hand up and down your back several times, sending you off to a deep sleep.

  
The next day, the three of you researched vigorously, searching through news articles, police blotters and neighborhood crime pages for any signs of Lucifer. Sam had broken out of one his older laptops for you to use as your own. After 4 hours, Dean had decided he needed a break and headed out to go pick up some lunch. 

  
You were looking through the obituaries in New York City, pretending to search for any signs of someone powerful or important dying in a strange manner, when you felt a sudden whoosh of air, followed by Castiel’s sudden appearance, “Fuckarooni, Cas!”

  
He looked down at you and apologized, “I’m sorry to keep startling you, (Y/N).”

  
Sam let out a howling laugh, “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it eventually.” 

  
After you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but to stand and give the angel a hug, “It’s good to see you again Cas.” He returned the hug, but when you pulled back, you noticed he still looked disappointed in you, “_I’m going to have to ask him about that here soon. What the hell did I do to him?_”

  
“So, what brings you here, Cas?” Sam asked as you took your seat back at the library table.

  
“Dean called and filled me in on the situation in St. Louis. Sam, he said you took pictures. May I see them?” Castiel asked. 

  
“Sure,” Sam replied, handing his phone over. 

  
Castiel started to scroll through Sam’s phone, “Ugh,” he sighed, “These pictures . . . The level of violence, it’s completely unnecessary.”

  
Sam nodded, “Lucifer doesn’t like to get messed with. I guess when the Archbishop’s priests figured out he was possessed,” he took in a deep breath before continuing, “they tried to keep it quiet and do an exorcism. I mean, not that it would’ve worked.”

  
The heavy front door of the bunker squeaked open, indicating that Dean was back with lunch. You heard him descend the stairs as Sam continued speaking, “Lucifer blew town, but not before he slaughtered the entire staff. So, we were on the right trail. Where’s it go now?”

  
Dean plopped the food down on the table beside Sam, “I don’t know. Who won the Nobel Peace Prize? Why don’t we start there?” 

  
Dean pulled a gargantuan, wrapped sandwich and a tray of fries from one of the fast food bags. You clapped happily as he sat it down in front of you, “Here, as you requested sweetheart, one order of chili cheese fries and one Elvis burger.”

  
Sam looked disgusted, “You’re actually going to eat that?”

  
“Uh, yeah she is, cause she’s awesome,” Dean said with pride. 

  
“Can I get that in writing?” you asked playfully.

  
“Don’t push it,” Dean responded as he leaned down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, “Enjoy the burger.”

  
“Thanks Dean,” you responded sincerely. 

  
“(Y/N), I think Dean has fully corrupted you,” Sam scoffed. 

  
“No way! I have always wanted to try this burger! Who wouldn’t want to try a bacon cheeseburger with two complete donuts as the bun?” you exclaimed. 

  
Sam pointed to himself and you rolled your eyes back at him. Dean looked at you in anticipation as you opened wide and took giant bite, managing to take a huge chunk out of the burger. You moaned in appreciation as the sweet and savory flavors invaded your mouth. After you finally swallowed, you clicked your tongue and remarked, “Damn Dean, that’s a great burger.”

  
“Hell yeah it is,” he replied with a sigh, “Damn, it’s nice to have someone with a palate as sophisticated as mine.” 

  
Sam huffed, “Right, whatever you say Dean.” 

  
You ignored him as you took another bite of the delicious sandwich and you let out a chuckle as Dean pulled his own Elvis burger and fries from another bag before joining you at your table. 

Another hour passed with no significant findings when Dean excused himself to use the bathroom. He was gone for quite a while and when he finally returned to the library, Castiel sighed heavily before asking, “Did the bunker’s warding fail?”

  
Dean marched forcefully back to his seat next to you, “I just powered it down. Crowley called, said he had some big news about Lucifer, whatever the hell that means.”

  
“Well, I wondered where you went, I was getting ready to send out a search party for you,” you said sarcastically. 

  
He sat down beside you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Sam spoke up, “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Wait a second. So . . . so now Crowley can just . . . what, drop in whenever he feels like it?”

  
Dean threw up his free hand in the air as Sam continued to complain, “I prefer keeping Crowley at a distance. _Long_ distance.”

  
“Not very charitable, Moose,” the familiar British voice of the King of Hell called out from behind Sam as he sighed and shook his head in frustration. 

  
Crowley stood from the chair he had appeared in and made his way over to the table that Sam was seated at, “Particularly since, once again, I’m saving all of your asses. So, as you know, I’m temporarily persona non grata in my own palace.”

  
“Palace?” You, Sam and Dean all said unison.

  
Crowley continued, ignoring you, “However, there are those I still control. Operatives.”

  
Sam interrupted him, “Crowley, can we just get the damn news without the drama?”

  
Crowley responses snarkily, “Can I get you without the flannel? No, Still, I endure.” He reached down and pushed Sam out of the way to start typing on his laptop, “Did a little digging, acting on a tip and I think I know the identity of Lucifer’s newest vessel.”

  
Dean threw his head back and rolled his eyes, “Oh, for God’s sake.”

  
Crowley flipped the laptop around so everyone could see, “Aha! Gentlemen, and lady,” he added looking to you, “I give you one Jefferson Rooney, President of these United States.”

  
“Well, fuck,” you groaned as Sam, Dean and Castiel looked angrily to one another.

  
“Exactly,” Dean said, mirroring your opinion. “How the hell are we supposed to get to the friggin’ President?”

  
“I don’t know,” Sam said defeated. 

  
The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to come up with a plan to gain access to Lucifer. Crowley left to go find his mother, but Castiel still wasn’t convinced that anything could be done. Dean was focused on his computer, but you watched as Castiel paced back and forth across the library, “Even if Crowley does bring in Rowena, the problem remains. Lucifer can’t be returned to the cage inside his vessel. His essence has to be extracted. If only . . .” he trailed off as he looked between you and Dean. 

  
“If only what, Cas?” you asked in curiosity. 

  
“Nothing. Never mind,” he replied, shaking his head. 

  
Sam interrupted before you could interrogate Castiel further, “Yeah and Lucifer has found the perfect safe house. I mean, how do we even start getting close to the President?”

  
“Well, it helps that he’s not in D.C.” Dean said, “Well, he’s, uh, actually on a fundraising swing through the Midwest.”

  
“Really?” you asked.

  
“Yep,” Sam confirmed, “Looks like right now he and his whole party, aides, Secret Service, the whole circus is staying at an estate owned by Ron Forester, the, uh hedge fund zillionaire. It’s right outside Indianapolis. But, it is completely surrounded by walls, security, Secret Service, military. Plan B?”

  
Dean scratched his chin, “He’s got a hell of a speaking scheduled,” he offered, “He’s averaging three events a day and he’s got a gala dinner on Friday night.”

  
“Well, at least he’ll be outside of the mansion,” Castiel noted. 

  
“Yeah, and guarded like the Hope diamond,” Sam said, shooting down the idea.

  
Dean and Castiel sighed in frustration. “Plan C?” you asked.

  
But no one responded. Everyone was drained from researching and brainstorming attack plans, so Castiel offered to go make some coffee. “Thanks Cas, that’d be great,” you replied while the boys sat silently in their chairs. Dean had his elbows up on the table and his head in between his hands. You reached over and placed a placed a hand on his thigh and ran it up and down his leg. He turned and gave you a small smile before reaching down to squeeze your hand. For so many years, you wondered how he and Sam had communicated without saying a word and now, you finally understood. 

  
A few minutes later, the silence in the bunker was disturbed by two coffee cups crashing to the ground as Castiel dropped them in the war room. He leaned over the table, gripping his forehead as he cried out in pain. Sam and Dean were immediately on their feet and headed to his side. You followed soon behind, thinking to yourself, “_Here we go, no turning back now._”

  
Dean reached Cas first, “Cas, Cas, hey.”

  
Cas had his eyes closed and gritted his teeth in agony as he choked out, “Something’s happened. Something . . . angel radio . . . there are so many voices.”

  
“What are they saying?” Sam asked as Dean placed a hand on Cas’ back for comfort. You came around to Cas’ other side and placed a hand on his back as well, mirroring Dean’s gesture. 

  
Cas groaned as the pain seemed to subside from his brain, “There’s been a massive surge in celestial energy. A nephilim has come into being. It’s the offspring of an angel and a human,” he said in horror.

  
Dean looked to Cas in confusion, “And that’s big news?”

  
Cas nodded, “Yes, but the power to produce this is immense. It’s much, much greater than a typical angel.”

  
Realization dawned on Sam’s face, “Lucifer.”

  
Dean turned to briefly look at Sam before staring out across the room as he replied, “Wha . . . Lucifer? I didn’t know he was dating.”

You spoke up, “So, wait. Lucifer is gonna have a kid?”

  
“That’s right,” Cas confirmed. 

  
“Guys, this could be a good thing!” Sam proclaimed. 

  
The three of you looked at Sam like he was crazy. “What the hell are you talking about Sam?” Dean asked. 

  
“Look,” Sam explained, “If we can get ahold of whoever he has pregnant, maybe we can use her as bait to drag him out into the open somewhere, away from all of his security and the Secret Service.”

  
“You want to use an innocent woman as Lucifer’s bait? What exactly are you gonna tell her? Something like, ‘hey lady, surprise but not only did you sleep with the President, but he’s actually the devil and you’re knocked up with the spawn of Satan’?” you asked, pretending to be shocked by the plan.

  
“Seems like the best plan we got,” Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders as he headed back into the library to collect his laptop, “All right, we leave in twenty, but (Y/N) you don’t have to come.”

  
You started to protest, but Cas beat you to it, “Dean, why don’t you want (Y/N) to come with us?”

  
Dean look betrayed as he answered, “Cas, it’s Lucifer. She doesn’t need to be anywhere near that.”

  
“Look here Winchester, you can’t keep trying to keep me from hunting! Are we really going to have this argument every time we have a job?” you questioned angrily as you stood in the library’s door, arms crossed as rage bubbled up inside of you.

  
Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Cas once again spoke up first, “Dean, she is supposed to be here, hunting. So, why do you keep trying to hold her back? She is more than capable of handling herself.”

  
“Thank you, Cas,” you proclaimed, exhaling sharply.

  
Dean let out a heavy sigh as his eyes darted back and forth between you and his best friend. Finally, he responded, “Fine, you wanna come, come. But don’t blame me if you get hurt.”

  
You stepped towards him, “No problem, Winchester. Also, there is no way we are leaving right now.”

  
He looked defiantly at you, “What the hell are you talking about . . .”

  
You raised your voice, trying to get your point across, “Dean! You were driving until five a.m. this morning, maybe slept for 5 hours and now you wanna drive to Indianapolis? That’s a twelve hour journey, meaning you’re going to be up all night again. No way I’m letting you do that!”

  
“Let me?” he asked, “I don’t recall asking for your permission, princess.”

  
“Guys!” Sam screamed frustrated from across the room, “Enough!”

  
Dean and you jumped when Sam’s voiced boomed and echoed off of the library walls. You both looked to him as he continued to speak, “(Y/N), what if we leave now, Dean drives until midnight and then we stop at a motel for the night. We’ll wake up early and be in Lucifer’s backyard by tomorrow afternoon. Can everyone live with that?”

  
“I can if he can,” you said nodding your head to Dean.

  
He was quiet for a few minutes before finally uttering, “Son of a bitch. Fine! I’m going to grab my bag. See you all at the car.” Dean pushed past you without another word and exited the library. 

  
“Thanks for the backup, guys,” you said to Sam and Cas as you stormed off after Dean. You stopped in your room to throw some clean clothes into your duffel and sat it outside your door. You walked over to Dean’s door and heard him pacing and muttering to himself inside. “Tell me what to do, huh? _No, you can’t do that, you’ll be too tired, blah, blah blah_,” he said, his voice high pitched as he mocked your voice. 

  
You opened the door, “I do NOT sound like that, Dean.”

  
He looked momentarily surprised and stopped dead in his tracks in front of his bed, “Well, that’s what you sound like to me. Where do you get off trying to tell me what to do?”

  
Your jaw dropped and you felt your eyes widen, “Are you serious right now!? Dean, you’re constantly telling me what to do!”

  
“And do you ever listen? No!”

  
“Hey,” you protested as you made your way closer to him, “I stayed behind when you went to L.A., remember?”

  
He rolled his eyes, “One time! One time you listened to me!”

  
The two of you stood there, inches away from each other. Your breathing was rough and ragged, but you tried to regain your composure by closing your eyes and focusing on slowing down your respirations. When you finally felt like you were calm enough, you grabbed both of his hands and looked up at Dean. His eyes slightly softened, but his mouth was still pressed into a firm line. 

  
“Thank you,” you uttered sincerely. 

  
“What?” he asked confused, but his expression never changed. 

  
You took a deep breath and continued to try and diffuse the situation, “Thank you, Dean. Thank you for listening to Cas about me and for agreeing to stop after we’re halfway to Indianapolis. I just . . . I worry about you and I know you could very well drive all through the night and probably be fine, but just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. And now that I’m here, I’m going to make sure you take a little bit better care of yourself,” you let out a small chuckle, “when I can get you to listen to me, that is.”

  
Dean seemed to finally understand your motivation and his face relaxed. He licked his lips and reached one hand up to cup your cheek. He stroked his thumb back and forth, “You know, I’m not used to . . . that. Sammy tries every one in a while but he . . .”

  
“Yeah, he gets scared and backs down or lets it go,” you finished with a small smile, “Not gonna happen with me. I don’t give up that easily and I’m not scared of you getting angry with me.”

  
A small smirk finally crept across his face, “You’re really annoying sometimes, you know that? You actually bother me a whole lot more than anyone else.”

  


  
“Good, then my work here is done for the day,” you replied sticking out your tongue. 

  
He shook his head and pulled your face up to his, pressing his firm, soft lips against yours as he gave you several sweet, tender kisses, his way of saying, “_thank you_”. 

  
When he was done he looked you in the eyes and asked seriously, “You sure you’re ready for this battle?”

  
You squeezed his hand, “Dean, I feel as long as I’m with you, I’m ready for anything.”

  
When you and Dean arrived to the car hand in hand, Cas and Sam let out a visible sigh of relief, seeing that the two of you had made up. Cas decided to join you on the journey so that you all could try to come up with a plan to trap the devil on the way to Indianapolis. You and he sat in the back while Sam and Dean rode up front. 

  
You tried to follow the conversation, nodding along here or adding in a “yeah” or “sounds good” occasionally. But, since you already knew what they were going to do, you were otherwise distracted with your own plans. You had to figure out a way to keep Sam and Dean out of that fake Guantanamo bay prison center, keep Crowley from sending Lucifer back to his own vessel and make sure that Kelly still escaped so that she could have Jack. 

  
Dean finally stopped at a motel around 1 a.m., after crossing the state line into Illinois. He agreed to sleep for six hours, no more, and you decided to take what you could get. Morning came too soon and the four of you continued on your journey. By the time you were fifty miles outside of Indianapolis, you were pretty sure you had figured out all the details in order to make things go your way. 

  
It was just in time too, because you recognized a conversation that Sam was having on the phone, “Yeah and hey Crowley, find out from your government mole if there’s a girlfriend or a mistress or a favorite hooker. Someone we don’t know about. Got it,” he finished, hanging up the phone. Sam looked to Dean, “All right, Crowley and Rowena will meet us in Indianapolis. Think the plan will work?”

  
Dean sighed, “As long as we find Rosemary and her baby, we should be able to impeach LOTUS.”

  
“All in a day’s work,” you said with small. 

  
“Exactly, nothing too hard, right?” Dean replied, giving you a wink in the rear view mirror. 

  
You leaned forward and draped your arms across Dean’s front, letting your head rest against the back of his. He let out a small moan and took one hand off of the steering wheel to stroke lazily up and down your arm. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the little sign of affection. 

  
You felt Cas lean forward on Sam’s side and heard him whisper, “Are they always like this?”

  
Sam chuckled, “Trust me, this isn’t bad at all.”

  
“(Y/N)?” Cas asked tentatively. 

  
You opened your eyes and looked towards the angel, “Yeah?”

  
“Why do you have wings on the back of your shirt and who is ‘Daryl Dixon’?” he asked, staring at your top. 

  
“It’s because she’s a huge dork,” Dean answered with a small chuckle. 

  
You slapped Dean on the chest with your free hand before answering Cas, “It’s just something from a TV show, Cas.”

  
“Ah, I see. It’s just . . . . kind of ironic,” he mused to himself. 

  
“What do you mean?” you questioned as your eyes narrowed in on his. 

  
He stuttered but never gave a full answer. Dean piped in from the front seat, “Probably because he’s an angel, right Cas?”

  
Cas’ eyes flicked to Dean, “Yeah, that’s it,” but you knew that really wasn’t the answer. You wanted to press the matter further, but Dean stiffened underneath of you and uttered, “Aw, crap!” as his eyes focused on something in the rear view mirror. 

  
You looked over your shoulder and finally heard the sirens of the black SUV coming up fast behind you. It sped up past you, but soon pulled back in your lane, slowing down and forcing Dean to pull Baby over to the side of the road. He parked and looked to you and Cas, “Stay in the car. Sam and I will handle this.”

  
You leaned back and watched as Sam and Dean approached the three Secret Service agents who had exited the SUV. You couldn’t hear much, but you knew that the men weren’t buying whatever story the boys were giving them. The agent that was talking to Dean had dusky skin and a full head of dark, neatly coiffed hair. After a few minutes, he went to pull a gun from his holster, but Dean sucker punched him. Sam held his hands up in a defensive position as the African American guard lunged toward him. Sam was able to grab ahold of the the agent and slammed him into your door. The bald man attacked Sam as well, but the younger Winchester was able to fight both of them off. Meanwhile, Dean was struggling with the other man for control of his gun. When Sam had managed to subdue the African American male in a head lock, the third agent backed up and pulled out his gun to point it at Dean. Dean relinquished control of the gun and Sam let the man out of the headlock. 

  
“Stay here,” Cas ordered as he exited the car to help the brothers, who were now being held at gun point by the three Secret Service agents. 

  
The man that had been fighting with Dean pointed his gun towards your window and you could hear him yell through the glass, “You! Out of the car now!” However, his attention was distracted by Castiel as he rounded around the back of the car. 

  
You heard the main agent yell at Cas, “Stop! Don’t move!”

  
But before anyone could say another word, all of their attention was grabbed by a black Cadillac with dark, tinted windows pulling up behind them, blaring jazz music. 

  
“_Fucking asshole. I can’t wait to get rid of him_,” you thought as you glanced out the back window of the Impala. The car stopped twenty feet away and soon enough, you saw Arthur Ketch step out of the driver’s seat. He held up his weapon and just before firing a grenade into the SUV. Dean and Sam rolled across the trunk of the car while the President’s security guards dodged for cover on the other side of the road. Cas remained motionless and you flung yourself down onto the back seat, covering your ears, just as a massive explosion shook Baby. 

You heard the back, passenger door of Baby squeak open and looked to see Dean’s green eyes staring at you quizzically. You nodded your head, “I’m fine,” you reassured him as he reached for your hand to help you out of the backseat. The two of you walked hand in hand around the back of the Impala and stared as the Englishman made his way up the road. 

  
He kicked one gun out of an agent’s reach before barking orders, “You. Angel. Wipe their memories.”

  
“_God, he is an arrogant bastard_!” you thought as you clenched your jaw. 

  
He kicked the main agent in the face, knocking him unconscious and observed the SUV, “U.S. government plates. Elite dog catcher level. Someone special wants you. Whose hydrant have you lads been tinkling on?” 

  
Dean yelled out, “I’m sorry. Who the hell are you?”

  
The man finally turned to face the four of you, eyeing you with curiosity before answering, “Oh! Where are my manners? Arthur Ketch. British Men of Letters.”

  
“And are we supposed to give a shit about that?” Dean retorted. 

  
“Considering I just saved you, yes. Now, why doesn’t the angel do like he’s told and we’ll continue this conversation elsewhere. There’s a field about twenty minutes down the road. Why don’t we meet there and we can have a little chat,” Arthur answered. 

  
Castiel made his way around to the agents, tapping each of them on the head to erase the memory of what had just occurred. Sam and Dean looked back and forth at each other before Sam finally answered, “Fine, we’ll give you ten minutes.”

  
Arthur responded sarcastically, “Oh, what a relief.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read! If you are enjoying the story at all, please leave a quick kudos or comment and let me know. I appreciate any and all feedback!


	23. Disrupting the Flow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester brothers and you take on Lucifer with a few special guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing the read the story! I am having a lot of fun writing it, so let me know if you are enjoying reading it!

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“I don’t like this, not one bit,” you complained as you pulled off onto a dirt road, following the black Cadillac, “How the hell did he even know where we were at?”

  
Sam shifted in his seat, “I don’t know Dean. They have unlimited resources. They’ve probably been spying on us for a while now.”

  
“Even more reason for us not to be following him into an empty field, at night, with God knows what waiting for us,” you said warningly. 

  
“Well, at least there’s four of us against him,” she pointed out from the back seat, “So hopefully he won’t try anything unscrupulous.”

  
After you parked, the four of you exited Baby and made your way to stand by the hood. You had your left arm thrown over her shoulder and she wrapped her right arm behind your waist. You gave him a fake smile before asking, “So, Sherlock, what do you want?”

  
Ketch let his gaze roam across the scene in front of him, with his vision lingering on her for a beat longer than anyone else, “So, it’s all very simple, really. Mick Davies asked you to join our effort, which we’re taking international. My instructions are to strongly encourage a ‘yes’.”

  
“So, what? You’ve just been following us?” Castiel asked. 

  
“Not at all,” Ketch answered, looking insulted. “ We’re good dogs. We only come when called. And he called,” Arthur finished as he nodded in Sam’s direction. 

  
You looked to Sam, “You what?!”

  
She spoke up as well, “Sam, you called them? Why?”

  
Sam looked slightly embarrassed as he tried to defend himself, “I didn’t . . . I uh . . . I hung up.”

Ketch noticed the dissent between the three of you and responded slowly, “Yes you did, which made Mr. Davies think that you were in trouble, which you were. So, he rings me. Bing, bang boom. Meet Bob. He’s your uncle. Oh and um, you’re welcome. Hmm?”

  
You rolled your eyes dramatically and asked, “And why should we believe anything you have to say?”

  
Arthur chuckled and looked to your best friend, “You, halo. Do you sense I’m lying?”

  
Suddenly, she yelled out angrily from your side, “Hey! His name is Castiel, not ‘angel’ or ‘halo’ or whatever nickname you think you’re clever enough to call him by. His name is fucking Castiel and he is an Angel of the Lord. Be. Fucking. Respectful!”

  
You smirked and pulled her closer to you as Arthur stared at her with curiosity, “And, who exactly are you, miss? Mr. Davies didn’t mention a female that was with the Winchesters.”

  
“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Mick yet,” she replied, “But for now, you can continue to call me ‘miss’. I’m not telling you a damn thing about me.”

  
“So, you’re a spunky, little firecracker then?”

  
“You’re damn right,” she practically spat out at him. 

  
Ketch turned his focus back to Cas, “Anyway, Castiel, what do you say? Am I lying?”

  
Cas answered reluctantly, “No . . . but the truth can be situational.”

  
“Oh, I do enjoy an angel,” Ketch said with a smirk, “but I understand your hesitation. You haven’t exactly seen us at our best. Lady Bevell is a bit . . . excitable.”

  
“Yeah, she tried to kill us,” you noted. 

  
“Like I said, excitable,” Ketch answered, obviously annoyed. 

  
“Excitable?” she scoffed, “The bitch is a fucking sadistic psychopath.”

  
“And you’re better?” Sam asked the Englishman. 

  
Ketch looked to your brother, “I don’t care about you one way or the other. I’m not an ideologue.”

  
“And all you wanna do is help these American hunters to clear this country of monsters?” Cas wanted to know. 

  
Ketch seemed to choose his next words very carefully, “We understand things are different here. We’re eager to collaborate.”

  
“Sure you don’t want to just get on our good side and then wipe us all out when we least expect it?” she queried. 

  
Ketch looked a little too innocent as he replied, “Now, whatever would give you that idea? The British Men of Letters are centuries old, lads . . . and lady. We can offer expertise, weaponry, skills.”

  
“Like what we saw out on the road?” Sam asked. 

  
Arthur held up his car keys and pressed a button, opening his trunk, “I’m an artist, Mr. Winchester. I paint in many colors.”

  
You cocked your head to the side, curiosity getting the better of you as you asked, “Was that a grenade launcher?”

  
  


Ketch nodded, “Quite.”

  
You were instantly jealous and Sam knew just how much you had been wanting to try out that weapon yourself. He held up a hand, signaling he knew just how you felt and she pulled you a little closer to her and patted you on the chest with her free hand, “One day, Dean, one day,” she whispered reassuringly. 

  
The Englishman started rustling through the various weapons of destruction in his trunk, “Our engineers have spent years blending sorcery and technology. For instance,” he continued to ramble on as he pulled out something that looked like a radar gun with a cone at the end, “we don’t always decapitate vampires. Inefficient really, especially for large nests. We irradiate them. Reorder their DNA. Their own blood becomes lethal to them.”

  
“Cool,” Sam said, looking slightly impressed. 

A devilish smile crept across Ketch’s face, “Mmm. The toys are the fun part, hmm?” He placed the gun back in the trunk and you couldn’t help but to be intrigued as he pulled out a golden shaped egg with various sigils carved around it. Arthur held the item proudly as he started to explain what it was, “Hyperbolic Pulse Generator. Exorcisms are unreliable. This device emits a force which drives the possessing demon from the vessel.”

  
This piqued your curiosity, but Sam was the first to speak up, “What about a, uh, a possessing angel?”

  
Arthur’s eyes narrowed with intrigue, “And what might you boys be working on?”

  
“Well, you wants us to trust you, you’re gonna have to trust us first,” you replied. 

  
“And that means?” Ketch asked slowly.

  
“That means that you let us borrow your fancy little toy there, Sherlock,” she said, “No questions asked, capiche?”

  
“Fine,” he said as he placed the weapon bag in it’s bag and handed it over to Sam, “but we will want that back when you’re done with it.”

  
Sam took it from Ketch and thanked him. Before climbing into his car, Ketch looked back at you all one last time, “Good luck with whatever it is you’re up to and don’t be afraid to call us.”

  
Soon, he was gone, leaving just the four of you standing alone out in the middle of the woods. She scrunched up her face and actually spit out at where his car had been, “Fucking asshole!”

  
You looked down at her, “I take it you don’t like him, sweetheart?”

  
“Hell, no! He is a despicable, manipulative, backstabbing piece of shit and I can’t wait to be rid of him,” she replied, trembling with rage.

  
You rubbed one hand up and down her arm as you led her back to the Impala, “Hey, hey, it’ll be OK. But for now, it looks like he was actually useful.”

  
“Yeah, yeah,” she said begrudgingly and you couldn’t help but to lean down and plant a quick kiss on the top of her head before opening the back door for her. 

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You had suggested parking Baby a few miles away from the ‘_Plains Motel_’ off a back road, so that Lucifer and none of his spies would immediately be able to tell where you were staying. Dean wasn’t happy that he had to put Baby in the corner, but he agreed that your plan was a smart move. Since Cas had his wings, he was able to fly you all back to the motel where Sam had already gotten you all checked into two adjoining rooms. Dean ordered some pizza and after a quick dinner, the three of you settled in for a night’s sleep, eager to impeach LOTUS the next day. 

  
Crowley and Rowena arrived bright and early the next morning to start preparing the trap. Sam and you had been busy working out the logistics of the plan while Cas had taken Dean into town to grab a light breakfast. Suddenly, a British voice surprised you, “Good morning moose and chipmunk.”

  
You jumped and turned around to look across the gap that separated the two motel rooms and saw Rowena standing beside her son, who was smirking, “What, did I scare you?”

  
“Fergus, I told you not to call me that,” you answered angrily. 

  
Rowena threw a hand up to cover her mouth as she started laughing, “Fergus? Did she just call you Fergus, dear?”

  
Crowley narrowed his eyes, “Yes, she thinks she’s funny.”

  
“Oh, I’m just a big ball of fun,” you replied sarcastically.

  
Rowena gracefully strutted over to you, her fiery red hair bouncing with every step, but she was looking at Sam, “Sam, my dear boy, you didn’t tell me you and Dean had made a new friend.” She grabbed one of your hands and placed it in between hers, “Hmm, you have a special energy about your dearie,” she said absentmindedly before looking into your eyes, “And who might you be?”

You loved Rowena and had ever since the first time she appeared in the ‘_Supernatural_’ world, but you knew you had to choose your words carefully, especially with Crowley just 5 feet away, “Hello, Rowena. My name is (Y/N), not chipmunk, as Fergus would have you believe. I’m a psychic who’s helping the Winchesters with a few cases for the time being.”

  
“Oh,” she said hopefully, “So, you have some insight as to what is going to happen today?”

  
“Not exactly,” you said shaking your head, “I haven’t seen anything about what is going to happen today.”

  
“Well, that is unfortunate,” she said disappointingly as she dropped your hand, “Well, I better get to work setting up my piece of the puzzle.”

  
Crowley had never taken his eyes off of you during the whole conversation you had with his mother, which didn’t go unnoticed by Sam. “What is it, Crowley?” Sam asked, stepping protectively in front of you. 

  
“I’d like to have a few minutes alone with (Y/N), just to talk, no funny business,” he requested, holding his hands up in surrender. 

  
“No way! Anything you want to say to her you can . . .” Sam started to protest, but you placed a hand on his arm and stood in front of him. You looked at Crowley and then into Sam’s eyes, “It’s OK. I don’t mind to have a private chat with him.”

  
“(Y/N), are you serious? Dean would kill you!” Sam uttered warningly under his breath. 

  
“Sam, Dean doesn’t control me. If I want to speak with Crowley alone, then I will. I’m a grown ass woman, despite what Dean thinks,” you whispered back. 

  
Crowley made his way to the front door and opened it, “Well my dear, shall we?”

  
Sam gave you one final pleading look, but you knew you needed to speak to Crowley alone and this would probably be your only chance before the showdown with Lucifer. You turned and walked through the open door out onto the porch of the motel, with Crowley following behind you and firmly slamming the door behind you. 

  
A wave of nervousness washed over you as you suddenly realized that you were actually alone with Crowley, the King of Hell. However, when you looked into his eyes, you didn’t see anything threatening behind them, only curiosity. 

  
“So, you’re a psychic, huh?”

  
You crossed your arms, “Yep.”

  
“Well darling, I’m not buying that horse and pony show.”

  
“Oh really?”

  
“Really. I think there’s something more to it than that, especially with the way ‘thing 1’ treats you,” he said, obviously referring to Dean. When you didn’t say anything, he continued, “What are you?”

  
“I told you, I’m a . . .”

  
“Stop lying!” he said angrily, slightly raising his voice. 

  
You smirked, stood up straight and spoke calmly, “Look Crowley, you don’t scare me,” which was a lie, because internally you were shaking like a leaf and running for the hills to get as far away from this situation as possible. But on the outside, you were determined to stay resolute in your position.

  
“You know, I could toss you into hell, just like that,” he said snapping his fingers for dramatic effect. 

  
You shrugged your shoulders, “Maybe, but you won’t.”

  
“And why is that?”

“Because, I can see it in your eyes. You’re curious. Curious about me and a little part of you wants to see exactly how this will play out. Plus, I know what you’re planning to try and do today.”

  
“The only thing I’m planning to do is toss that arrogant, conniving archangel back into the pit where he belongs.”

  
“_Here goes nothing_,” you thought and exhaled sharply before speaking again, “Crowley, I know you have Lucifer’s old vessel waiting for him.”

  
His mouth parted slightly and he narrowed his eyes, “Now, why would I do a silly thing like that?”

  
“Because you’re still pissed at him for making you look like a fool in front of your subjects. For making you into his slave. You want revenge.”

  
“Now wait a minute little chipmunk, I thought you said you didn’t know anything about what was happening today?”

  
You bit your lip and let out a deep breath, “Let’s just say I do know a few things.”

  
“And you haven’t told the Hardy boys?”

  
You gave him a bitchface, “Not exactly. So, you can see how much I’m trusting you with this information.”

  
“You get more interesting every minute, little one.”

  
“Crowley, focus! I know how much you want revenge on Lucifer for what he did. Yes, it was humiliating and tortuous, blah, blah blah. But listen, if you do this. If you manipulate Rowena’s spell in your favor, I’ve seen how it ends.”

  
“And what pray tell do you see in your little crystal ball for me?” he asked, obviously unfazed by your warning thus far.

You grabbed him by his shoulders, trying to make him understand just how dire the situation was, “Listen up and listen good Crowley!” He stared at back at you, shocked that you would dare touch him, but he didn’t say anything in response. You spoke sternly to him, “If you do this, you will die. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. There’s no smoking out of that meat suit and hiding until the coast is clear. You. Will. Die!”

  
“And why do you care so much if I die or not?”

  
You released him and stood back, “Let’s just say, you’re the lesser of all evils that could be running the show down below. So please, don’t try anything off script today. Just, just go with the plan.”

  
He let his gaze drift absently away to the floor as he thought about what you said. Before he could answer, the motel door swung open and Dean pulled you inside, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  
  


“Crowley wanted to talk,” you said nonchalantly. 

  
His emerald green eyes were laced with anger, “Fine, then you talk inside. You don’t go off by yourself with the King of Hell for a pow wow.”

  
Crowley stepped back into the room, “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of hurting your little friend, Dean.”

  
You reached your hands up to squeeze Dean’s biceps, “Hey, I’m fine. I promise. No harm no foul.”

  
He looked you over, assessing for any injuries. When he was satisfied that you weren’t harmed, he placed a kiss on your forehead and hugged you tightly. 

  
“Ok, now that we’re all warm and cozy again, why don’t you tell us about this fancy toy of yours that you’re planning to use on the devil?” Crowley mused. 

  
Dean let you go and made his way over to his bag. He pulled out the hyperbolic pulse generator from it’s grey bag and held it up in front of Crowley. 

  
Crowley looked unimpressed, “So, you’re gonna pop Lucifer out of the President, with _that_?”

  
You made your way over to sit on the bed while the rest of the group carried on the conversation. From this angle, you could keep a view on Rowena’s bowl and make sure that Crowley didn’t mess with the spell. Even though you were pretty sure you had gotten through to him, you knew he was an arrogant bastard and might still try to carry out his own plan. 

  
Dean twisted the weapon around in his hand, “I hope so. Otherwise, we’re all dead. Then, Rowena zaps him back to the cage. Of course, we gotta get him here first.”  


Sam leaned against the door separating the rooms, “Yeah, we need to get ahold of this, uh, secret girlfriend that Crowley found out about. This . . . Kelly. Of course, she’s in that mansion with the President, which is guarded like a fortress. Only Cas or Crowley have a chance of getting in and out of there undetected.”

  
You nodded towards Crowley, “Well, I vote for him since he found about Kelly.”

  
Dean pursed his lips, “I actually agree with you there babe. Let’s send the demon in after the devil baby mama.”

  
Crowley looked around the room and saw he was outnumbered, “Bollocks. Fine, I’ll be back before you two,” he said looking between you and Dean, “can gather enough nuts for winter.”

  
In the blink of an eye, Crowley had disappeared. Rowena was finishing mixing up her ingredients and made her way to stand in front of her table. She looked back and forth between you and Dean and you saw something click in her head, “Oh! I get it now. Darling, you have to admit, ‘chipmunk’ is pretty clever.”

  
You and Dean both shook your heads at her and said, “Knock it off,” in unison, causing everyone else in the room to chuckle. 

  
As quickly as he had disappeared, Crowley was back with Kelly Kline, who looked flustered by being suddenly plucked away from the President’s camp. Her eyes were wide and wild as she perused the room full of strangers, “What is going on here?!” she asked in a panic. 

  
“Kelly, have a seat,” you friendly offered, patting the spot beside you, “There’s a lot we have to tell you.” She looked at the seat on the bed uncertainly, so you tried to reassure her, “Don’t worry, no one is going to hurt you.”

  
She made her way over with trepidation, but finally sat down on the bed, a few feet away from you. You looked to Dean and then at the pitcher of water behind him on the dresser. He understood you and and silently brought her over a glass of water. Over the next several minutes, Sam and Dean filled her in on the situation, letting her know that even thought it sounded bonkers, the President, her boyfriend, was indeed possessed by the devil himself. 

  
Kelly took a sip of her water, “No, no, you’re making it up. It’s impossible.”

  
Dean waved his hands in front of him and gave a dazzling smile, “Well, to be fair, so is teleporting, but . . . ta-da.”

  


Kelly held up a hand and asked, “Who are you people?”

  
Rowena stepped forward and pointed to herself, you and Castiel respectively, “Well, dear, I’m a witch. She’s a psychic and he’s an angel.” 

  
Crowley waved his hand, “And I’m the King of Hell.”

  
“Oh god,” Kelly exclaimed. 

  
“No, actually he left,” Cas said with disappointment and you couldn’t help but to let out a little chuckle at his unintentional joke. 

  
Sam tried to refocus the situation, “Okay guys, not helping.”

  
Kelly shook her heard furiously, “You, you can’t be serious about this. He’s the President.”

  
Sam looked at her pleadingly, “He was, but now . . . tell me he hasn’t been acting different than usual?”

  
Kelly stammered, “Well, Jeff’s been under a lot of stress. He . . . he . . .”

  
“Wrong,” Crowley called out from the other room, “He’s the bloody devil. Horns, pitchfork, the whole nine!”

  
“Crowley!” you yelled as you held up a hand, signaling for him to shut up, “She gets it, ok?” You saw him roll his eyes and step back towards Rowena’s bowl, but you gave him a death stare and shook your head warningly at him, causing him to stop in his tracks. 

  
Sam spoke up again, “Listen, Kelly, we know what we’re talking about. We have been on Lucifer’s trail for a long time.”

  
“And we know you’re pregnant with his child,” Rowena added. 

  
Kelly shifted her eyes back and forth between the Winchesters and Rowena, “That’s, that’s, not true. You don’t know. You’re lying”

  
Cas made his way over to the dresser that held an old school 1980’s style television and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a copy of the ‘_Holy Bible_’ and brought it with him as he returned to stand in front of Kelly, “The thing inside of you, it’s unholy. It’s an abomination.”

  
Kelly shook her head as he spoke, but he ordered her to place her hand on top of the good book. She looked annoyed as she lightly let her right hand fall on top of the Bible. Within seconds, you started to hear sizzling and watched as Kelly’s face turned to shock when smoke began to billow out from underneath her hand. She gasped and removed her hand, just as the book caught on fire. Dean picked up a trash can and the water pitcher and brought it over to Castiel who quickly tossed the book in the waste receptacle. Dean poured the water over the book, extinguishing the flames. 

  
Kelly inhaled shakily, “No, oh no, oh no, oh no,” she repeated over and over and you couldn’t help but to place a hand on her back, trying to console her. 

  
After Dean sat the trash back in the corner, he asked, “Does he even know that you’re knocked up?

  
Kelly continued to stare at the floor in disbelief, “He said he was thrilled. He said it was the only time he ever created anything. 

  
You, Sam and Dean shared a knowing look at the double entendre of the President’s words. Finally, Sam asked, “Kelly, please, can you help us?”

  
Thirty minutes after Kelly made the call to Lucifer, asking him to meet her and talk about the pregnancy, you heard the gravelly crunch of two cars pulling up outside of the motel. Kelly was in the main room while Castiel hid in the closet. The rest of you were tucked away in the adjoining room with the separating doors closed and locked. You heard a door open and could only assume that the Secret Service was doing a sweep for anyone hiding. 

  
The knobs of the two doors in front of you rattled and Sam and Dean quietly leaned in and held the handles tightly so that the agents could not enter the room. You heard footsteps depart and soon, Castiel knocked on the door three times, indicating that the coast was clear. Sam entered the main room to take his final attack position. Dean looked to you, worry in his eyes, but you gave him a small and blew him a kiss. 

  
Shortly thereafter, you heard a roaring, electrical crackle and felt a whoosh of air blow in from underneath the door, indicating that Sam had started to drive Lucifer out of his current vessel. Dean and Cas flung open the door and you stepped back to stand on the other side of Rowena. The force of the power being emanated from Lucifer and the weapon was almost overwhelming, but you planted your feet and watched as Sam held onto the pulse generator for dear life. 

  
Lucifer swept an arm around the room, trying to attack, but the weapon was draining all of his power. The hair on your arms stood erect as the static electricity in the room increased. The lightbulbs in all of the lamps burst and you heard the mirror in both rooms crack. 

  
Dean was slammed back against one of the separating doors, but was able to call out, “Rowena, now!”

  
Beside you, Rowena began her spell, “_Mah tay, ez loh, say tah!_” she chanted, throwing a red powder into her bowl. A huge crimson flame shot up in the air and Lucifer groaned in agony, arms outstretched at his sides. 

  
Lucifer looked over to the younger Winchester, “This isn’t over, Sam!”

  
Sam smirked back at him defiantly, “Go to hell!”

  
Rowena repeated her incantation several times and soon, the archangel’s true form was circling above the President as a blinding, blight, white light. As she finished the incantation for the final time, Lucifer was sent flying through the air vent in the floor, by Sam, and hopefully back to his prison in the pit. 

  
The President fell to the floor and everyone stood stunned and was eerily quiet. Your nursing instincts kicked in and you rushed to Jeff’s side to check his breathing and pulse. Kelly was crying in the corner, but made her way over beside you, “Jeff? Jeff?”

  
You looked to Kelly, “He’s OK. His breathing and pulse are slow, but strong and steady. He should be just fine.”

  
Cas walked over and knelt down beside you, “He will be okay. He shouldn’t remember a thing either.”

  
You looked over your shoulder and saw that Crowley had already grabbed Rowena and tucked tail and ran. “_Fucking coward_,” you thought to yourself. 

  
You turned to Castiel and desperately pleaded, “Cas, you’ve got to get us out of here before the agents come back. Quick, get Sam and Kelly back to the car first, then come back for Dean and me.”

  
Sam started to protest, but Castiel had already gripped him and Kelly and with a *_whoosh_* they were gone. 

  
Dean was still standing paralyzed by the adjoining door, but he finally snapped out of his daze when Sam disappeared from sight. He stepped forward and reached down to pull you up into a hug, “We got him babe. We got Lucifer.”

You looked up and smiled at him, but the two of you were interrupted by knocking at the door, “_Shit! Cas, come on, get us out of here!_”

  
Two federal agents quickly stormed through the door, guns pointed at you and Dean. One of them barked at you, “Hands on your head now! Stand away from each other!”

  
You turned and stood beside Dean and calmly followed their orders. Dean pleaded with them, “Let her go, she’s got nothing to . . .”

  
But he was cut off as the second agent screamed, “Shut up! You both are under arrest for the attempted assassination of the President of the United States.”

  
What happened next, must’ve only taken a few seconds, but time slowed down for you. You heard a voice yell in your heard, “_Turn to stand in front of Dean with your back to the agents, NOW!_”

  
You don’t know what compelled you to follow the crazy command, but you did so. Dean looked at you like you were crazy, but instinctively gripped your arms and pulled you closer to him. You heard a small *_whoosh_* and knew Cas was back to rescue you and Dean. But before he could transport you out of the hotel, you heard a *_bang_* and felt a white, hot pain explode in your left shoulder. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“(Y/N), what the hell was that!” you screamed at her as you landed back at the Impala. 

  
“Motherfucker!” she called out in agony.

  
“I’ll be right back, I’m going to wipe their memories so they won’t come after us,” Castiel explained before disappearing again. 

  
“What the hell happened?” Sam asked after placing Kelly in the backseat. 

  
You flipped her around to assess her wounds, “This idiot here all of a sudden flipped around in front of me and got herself shot. What were you thinking?!”

  
She looked over her shoulder at you and growled, “I was thinking that something bad was about to happen and I better save the man I care about so much, despite how ungrateful of a jackass he might be in return!” 

  
You ripped the top of her shirt down and saw that the bullet had been stopped by her scapula. Castiel reappeared beside you, “Great, now that you’re back, help me fix up the dumbass here.”

  
Cas approached and looked at her wound, “If you get the bullet out and clean the wound, it should heal quickly.”

  
“Uh, Cas, if you lay hands on her, we won’t have to go through any of that and she’ll be just as new right now,” you said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

  
He shifted uncomfortably and she pleaded with him, “Oh no, don’t even play games with me Cas. Come on, heal me! Please.”

  
“I can’t,” he said with shame in his eyes. 

  
“What the hell, Cas!” Sam screamed at him.

  
“Yeah,” you joined in, “Why the hell not?”

  
“I can’t . . . I’m not allowed to . . .” Castiel started to explain but she turned and punched him in the chest before screeching at him , “Yeah yeah feathers, we get it! Some big, powerful secret bullshit that you can’t tell us about. Play me another record, I’m getting tired of this one.”

  
“I am very sorry,” Cas replied. 

  
You felt blinding rage boiling up inside of you at his reluctance to help her, “Well, do you think you can at least sit in the back with Sam and guard Kelly while we get the hell out of dodge.”

  
He nodded and Sam and him went to take their assigned seats in Baby. She moved to sit in the front seat but you stopped her, “Hey, I didn’t tell you to go anywhere.”

  
She held her left arm bent up to her chest and tried to hide the pain that the bullet was obviously causing her every time she moved. You took off your jacket and then slipped off your flannel top, “Come here,” you ordered. She closed the gap between you and allowed you to fasten your shirt around her arm and neck as a makeshift sling, “There, now we’re done. Get in the car.”

  
She nodded her head and made her way to sit in the front seat. You put your jacket back on and made your way to the driver’s seat, still internally fighting a battle with yourself. One part of you wanted to slap her, yes, actually slap her for being stupid enough to put her life on the line and take a bullet for you. The other half wanted to comfort her and pin her up against the Impala to show her just how grateful you were that she was safe. Luckily, the first side of you won out, “_No way am I rewarding her idiotic behavior . . . yet._”

  
You drove for several hours, trying to put as much distance between yourselves and Indianapolis. Once you were over the state line and back into Illinois, you pulled over at the first motel room and rented two rooms, one for Sam and Kelly and one for you and her. You sat on the edge of the bed and ordered her to pull over a chair and sit in front of you in a chair so you could clean her up. She took off her shirt, leaving her upper body only dressed in a simple, black bra that would otherwise have dirty thoughts running around your head, but you were too focused on the task at hand. 

  
You undid your belt and at the sound of that, she turned around, “What are you doing?”

  
“Here,” you said folding your belt in half and handing it to her, “You’re gonna wanna bite down on this. Getting this bullet out is not gonna be fun.”

  
She looked scared, but accepted your gift with her good hand. She placed the belt in her mouth, leaned forward and gripped the back of the chair fiercely. 

  
You sterilized the tweezer you were going to use to extract the bullet, “Ready, princess?”

  
She nodded her head slowly. As soon as the tweezers met her skin, she flinched. “You gotta keep still (Y/N). I know it hurts, but I’ll move quick,” you reassured her. She nodded her head again and you started in on the bullet again. Her whole body was shaking, but you could tell she was doing her best to remain as motionless as possible. The whimpers and moans that escaped her throat sent stabbing pains deep in your chest and urged you to move faster. 

  
After a minute, you successfully pulled the bullet from her wound and placed it on a rag beside you, “There, there, see, now that wasn’t so bad. Hey, we’re gonna keep this as a memento,” you said, trying to sound positive. 

  
The belt fell from her mouth to the floor and landed with a soft *_thud_* on the motel carpet. Her breathing was quick and shallow and she sounded absolutely pitiful, “Yay, just what I wanted for Christmas.”

  
You rubbed a hand up and down her right arm, “Almost done babe, you’re gonna need a few stitches back here.”

  
Her breathing started to become more even and she sounded a little more like herself when she answered, “Great, my favorite. Pretty soon I’ll have just as many scars as the next hunter.”

  
“Hey, I think scars are sexy.”

  
“Don’t lie to me, Dean. Not when you’re about to shove a needle through my skin.”

  
“I wouldn’t lie to you, princess. Not in this moment. It shows you’ve been through something extreme and lived to tell the tale.”

  
You poured some alcohol onto the cut to sterilize it, eliciting a small *_hiss_* from her. You offered her a swig from the bottle, but she turned you down, “Just get it over with. The faster we do this, the faster it’ll be done.”

  
You started stitching her up and finally asked her what you had been dying to to all afternoon, “So, in all seriousness, why did you do it? Why did you step in front of me the way that you did?”

  
She inhaled deeply, “I . . . I just had a gut feeling that I needed to.”

  
“That doesn’t make any sense.”

  
“Oh come on Dean, you’ve never acted out of instinct or been guided by your intuition?”

  
“Well, I guess when you put it that way,” you replied as you finished up the first stitch. 

  
“That’s what happened to me back at the other motel. I had a feeling you were going to get hurt, so I stopped it.”

  
“Yeah, but if you hadn’t moved, those agents wouldn’t have shot at you,” you retorted, starting to get riled up again. 

  
“No, they shot at us after Cas appeared and spooked them.”

  
Everything had happened so fast, you weren’t sure if she was telling the truth or not. You finished up her last stitch and pointed out, “Yeah, but if I got shot, then at least Cas would’ve healed me. Now, you’ve got your very first gunshot wound.”

  
“Are you done with my stitches?” she asked a little too calmly. 

  
“Yeah . . .” you trailed off as you set your tools back on the bed.

  
She leaped out of the chair and turned around. You could see where her face was wet from silent tears, probably caused by you taking the bullet out of her shoulder. But now, her eyes glowed with fury, “Stand up, Winchester!”

  
You were taken aback by her rage and couldn’t move. She barked again, this time using her right hand to grab a fistful of your shirt, “I said, stand up! On your feet Winchester!” 

  
You stood chest to chest with her and were momentarily distracted by her beautiful, full round breasts as they heaved up and down with each heavy breath that she took. She lightly tapped you on the cheek, “Focus, Dean! I have something important to show you.” She positioned herself so she was slightly off center, to your left, “Now, would you say this is how I was standing when I was shot?”

  
“Yeah. Yeah, this feels right.”

  
“Good! Now, look where the bullet hit me and follow its path to see where it would’ve hit you if I hadn’t been standing there.”

  
You did as she commanded and let out a small gasp as you realized the point she was trying to make, “It would’ve hit me . . .”

  
Tears welled up in her eyes as she was unable to contain her emotions any longer, “In your heart Dean!” she cried out, “You would’ve been hit in your damn heart! Now, maybe Cas would’ve been able to heal you and maybe not. But all I know is that I would gladly take a bullet again to my shoulder to protect your life.”

  
You gripped her face with your hands and looked deep into her soul, “My life is not more important than yours. Why would you do that?”

  
Tears continued to flow down her cheeks, running down your hands. She swallowed hard, “Because idjit, I . . . I care about you . . . a lot, ok? You’re worth saving.”

  
“I think you have low standards, sweetheart,” you replied, shaking your head.

  
She sniffled and let out a small chuckle, “Maybe. Or maybe you just don’t think highly enough of yourself.”

  
You pulled her in slowly and gave her a passionate kiss, trying to let your lips tell her what your mouth couldn’t. You pulled back before you let yourself get too carried away, but the wind was knocked out of your lungs as you saw unconditional adoration shining brightly from her eyes. 

  
“I, um, I’m gonna go check on Sam and Kelly. Why don’t you go enjoy a nice, hot bath and then I’ll dress your wound.”

  
She leaned in and kissed your shirt where it covered your heart before answering, “Sounds good, idjit.” She gathered up her personal hygiene products, a change of clothes and headed into the bathroom. 

  
Once she was out of sight, you grabbed your jacket and cellphone and headed for the Impala. You sat in the driver’s seat and scrolled through your contacts until you found the name you were searching for. 

  
The line rang several seconds before the Scottish accent of Rowena greeted you, “Well, if it isn’t Dean Winchester.”

  
“Rowena,” you simply stated.

  
“Sorry my son popped me out of there before the dust could settle, but I’m glad to hear that you made it out as well. Everyone ok dear?”

  
“Rowena, how would you like to get your hands on the ‘_Black Grimoire_’?”

  
She was silent for a moment but then asked in feigned ignorance, “The what dear? Whatever are you talking about?”

  
“Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what it is and I know why you would want it.”

  
“How could you possibly . . .”

  
“Doesn’t matter. So, my question still stands, do you want to get your hands on the book or not?”

  
“What do I have to do?” she asked, sounding more annoyed. 

  
You took a deep breath as a solitary tear slid down your cheek, “I need a huge favor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, did Crowley listen to the reader? Only time will tell. And Dean, oh Dean, he is about to do something monumentally stupid.


	24. Magic Comes with a Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean carries out a plan to try and do what he believes is best for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, last chapter of 2019! And, I’ve hit the 100K word mark! 😮😁 Thanks to all of you who continued to read! I saw another author say that comments are like crack to writers and they are not kidding! Any little comment brings so much joy and happiness and inspires me to keep writing. Have a happy new year!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
The steaming hot water from the bath had helped to soothe your aching muscles and relax you after one of the longest days of your life. However, you were finding out quickly that almost everyday with the Winchesters seemed like the longest day of your life. You were so relieved that the boys were spending the night in this motel, rather than on their way to site 94 to be falsely imprisoned for the next 6 weeks. However, there was also the lingering concern of why Castiel wouldn’t or couldn’t heal you from your gunshot. In the back of your mind, you had always thought if you were really injured that you’d be able to call on Cas for an instant fix, but that didn’t seem like an option anymore. 

  
You finished cleaning up and dressed in light grey yoga pants and a matching tank top before exiting the bathroom and taking a seat on the bed to brush your hair. Just as you were finishing up, Dean walked back in. You could tell that the weight of the events of the day were laying heavily on his shoulders, but he seemed to perk up a little bit when he saw you, “Mmmm, yoga pants.”

  
“Hey handsome, how’s your brother and Kelly doing?”

  
“They’re fine. Kelly is still a little freaked out, but Sam is doing his best to keep her calm. They’ve made an appointment at a clinic in Lebanon tomorrow afternoon for her to have Lucifer’s child, uh, taken care of.”

  
You slowed down brushing your hair when you heard this, “Is Kelly OK with this?”

  
“I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. It’s the spawn of Satan (Y/N), we have to stop it.”

  
“Right, right. I understand Dean. It’s just a lot for her to deal with and I’m just trying to be there for her, as a woman, ya know?”

  
Dean sat beside you on the bed and placed a hand on your leg. He looked like he was struggling internally on what to say next to you. You could see the guilt and regret swirling around in his dazzling green irises and knew he was scolding himself for allowing you to get hurt. 

  
You placed a hand over top of his and spoke to him softy, “Dean, I’m fine. I swear. I’m not as fragile as you think I am. Sure, sometimes it takes me a little longer to bounce back than you or Sam, but give me a break. I’ve been here, what a month and you’ve been doing this for nearly forty years? So, cut me a little slack and quit beating yourself up every time I get hurt.”

  
“You weren’t just hurt, you were fucking shot tonight,” he said, exasperated.

  
“Well, it might’ve been the first time, but I can damn near guarantee it won’t be the last. And guess what, I’ll be all right then too.”

  
He shook his head in frustration, “I can’t keep pretending that everything’s going to be all right, especially when Cas says he can’t heal you for whatever goddamn reason. You don’t know that you won’t get seriously hurt.”

“Yes, I do,” you replied as you reached a hand up to his face.

  
“How? How can you know that?”

  
“Because,” you whispered as you leaned in closer to kiss him, “I’m not done bothering you yet.”

  
The next morning, you, Dean, Sam, Castiel and Kelly all met up early for breakfast. Kelly’s appointment wasn’t until later that evening, so you knew she should be fine to eat this morning before her procedure. However, it didn’t really matter, because you were planning on helping her escape before the boys could carry out their plan to kill Jack. 

  
She was seated across from you on the inside of her side of the booth with Sam blocking her in. Dean was at your side and Cas had pulled up a chair to sit at the head of the table. You tried to give her a small smile every time she looked up to you, but her face remained expressionless. 

  
The waitress brought the check and Dean offered to go pay the bill at the front counter. Kelly spoke up, “I need to go to the bathroom before we leave.”

  
“_Yes, this is my shot!_”

  
“I’ll go with her,” you offered looking to Sam and Dean, “and we can meet you in the car, sound good?”

  
Sam nodded and Dean whispered in your ear as he let you out of the booth, “Be careful.”

  
You patted him on the chest, “Always, Dean.”

  
You held Kelly firmly by the back of her arm, pretending to hold her prisoner as show for the boys, and led her to the bathroom. When you walked in, you turned and locked the door behind you. 

  
“So, you gonna make me go in the stall with you too like a good little girl or what?” she asked, detached from the situation. 

  
“Quite the opposite actually,” you said, flipping her around to grab her hands and hold them tightly in yours. 

  
She looked perplexed, “What . . . what are you doing?”

  
“Listen up, Kelly, because I don’t have much time to explain everything.”

  
“Explain, what?”

  
You let out a heavy breath and dove in, “Kelly, I’ve been lying to my boys out there. I said I didn’t know that any of this was going to happen, but I did.”

  
She looked furious as she began to raise her voice, “You mean you knew that I was gonna get pregnant by . . .”

  
You slapped a hand over her mouth, “Shhh! Yes, yes I did.”

  
Her voice was quieter when you finally allowed her to speak, “Why would you do that? How dare you!”

  
“Because, Kelly, I’ve seen what your son will become.”

  
Her eyes welled up with tears, “My . . . my son?”

  
“_Shit! She didn’t know her child was a boy yet!_”

  
“Yeah, sorry, it just slipped out.”

  
She placed her free hand over her stomach, “I mean, I figured since it was Lucifer, it would be a boy, but to know for sure . . .”

  
“Deep down, I know that you feel that your son is going to be good, don’t you?” you asked, squeezing the hand that you still had a hold of. 

  
She looked deep into your eyes and nodded her head. You continued to speak, “That’s because he is. Yes, he may be Lucifer’s son, but he is so much like you, Kelly. At first, I didn’t even believe it. I just knew that your child would be evil, but he is truly going to be a phenomenal person. In fact, I believe in him so much that I’ve lied to the only family I have here in order to make sure he is born and it is killing me inside knowing that I’ll have to eventually face the consequences. But, your son is worth it, Kelly.”

  
She squeezed your hand back, “What am I supposed to do?”

  
You pulled your wallet out of your purse and handed her all of your emergency cash, “Here, take this. You’ve got to get out of here. Now soon, a demon, well a Prince of Hell really, might show up. With Lucifer presumably gone, I don’t know if she’ll still take interest in you. Her name is Dagon and while she is slightly terrifying, she will protect you until the time is right. That’s all I can tell you for now, but just know I am on your side and I will do everything I can to protect you and your son.”

  
She took the money and stuffed it into her pocket before pulling you into a tight hug, “Thank you so much, for everything.”

  
You pulled back and held her by her upper arms, “There’s one more thing you have to do before you go.”

  
“What?”

  
“I need you to hit me, hard, so that it looks like you attacked me to get away.”

  
“Are you crazy?!” she squealed. 

  
“No, I am deadly serious. If I don’t look like I was attacked, they’ll be suspicious.” You put your arms behind your back so you wouldn’t be tempted to defend yourself, “Come on, Kelly. Hit me and then sneak out the back door.”

  
Kelly stood back and balled her right hand into a fist, “Are you sure?”

  
“Yes, yes I’m sure. Take care and I’ll see you two real soon,” you said with a smile, looking down at her stomach one final time before closing your eyes. 

  
“All right, here goes nothing,” she replied. 

  
A few seconds later, a hard, throbbing pain exploded across your left cheek, followed by sharp sting. Kelly cried out, “My ring! I’m so sorry, I forgot I had it on and it scratched you!” You did your best not to touch the blood on your face so it would look like Kelly had knocked you out with her hit. You slumped to the floor and told her, “It’s ok, it’ll look even more convincing this way. Now, go! I’ll stay here until one of them comes looking for me. Take care Kelly.”

  
She nodded and gave you one more smile before unlocking and opening the bathroom door just a crack to make sure the coast was clear. Once she was satisfied that no one was watching, she disappeared out of view. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“_Something’s not right. Why are they taking so long_,” you thought as you fidgeted with your keys in the front seat of the Impala. It had been ten minutes and still, there was no sign of her or Kelly from the diner. You shoved the keys back in your pocket and announced to Cas and your brother, “I’m going to go see what’s taking them so long.”

  
“Dean, I’m sure everything is okay,” Sam replied. 

  
“Yes Dean, as I’ve learned from sitcoms and films, women seem to take longer than men when using the bathroom. Perhaps (Y/N) is dealing with her menses,” Castiel said from the backseat. 

You shut the front door and bent over to looked dumbfounded back at Cas, “Gross, dude.”

  
“Dean, it’s a perfectly normal part of the female reproductive cycle,” Cas explained.

  
You held up your hands, “_Ehhhhhhh_, enough of the biology lesson!” You looked at Sam, “I’ll be right back. Come in after me if I’m not back in five minutes.”

  
You made your way quickly back into the diner and knocked on the women’s bathroom door. When you didn’t get a response, you knocked again and called out her name, “Everything ok in there?” Finally, you opened the door and were stunned to see her sitting in the floor, head fallen onto her chest. You swiftly knelt down in front of her and shook her shoulders gently, “(Y/N)! (Y/N) wake up!”

  
She stirred, “Hmmm, what, what happened?”

  
“I don’t know, you tell me. Hey, where’s Kelly?!,” you said frantically, noticing the scratch and bruise on her left cheek.

  
She looked at you through foggy eyes, “All I remember is that I was washing my hands and I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned off the water, turned around and felt an explosion across my face. Kelly, she must’ve, she hit me.”

  
You raised your eyebrows at her, “Really? That little thing got the jump on you?”

  
“She’s a lot stronger than she looks Dean. Plus, I didn’t expect her to really attack me! Not with you three mere feet away. Did you see her come out?”

  
You stood and reached for her hands to help her stand up, “No, I came in to check on you and make sure everything was okay, which it clearly isn’t.”

  
“Oh God, Dean,” she said in a panic, “I am so so sorry! She’s gone and it’s all my fault! Oh my Chuck, we . . . we have to find her!”

  
You were annoyed and angry that she had let Kelly slip through her fingers, but you felt it was just as much as your fault for not providing back up for her, “We will. I’ll get Cas in on it right away. Come on, let’s just get you cleaned up and get back on the road.”

  
When you reached the Impala, Sam and Cas were immediately alarmed by Kelly’s absence. She looked sheepishly away as you explained what happened in the diner bathroom. Once you were done, she started to profusely apologize, choking back sobs, but Sam and Cas were just as understanding as you had been, at least on the outside. Cas immediately left to go in search of Kelly while the three of you made the long drive back to Lebanon. 

  
You pulled into the Men of Letter’s garage around 10:00pm and she quickly grabbed her bag from the trunk and ran to her room. 

  
“I just don’t get it,” Sam said as the two of you shared a beer in the kitchen, unwinding from the day, “(Y/N) has proven how tough and how good of a fighter she is. How could Kelly get the best of her like that?”

  
You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know. Maybe mini Lucifer is giving his mama some extra juice or something.”

  
“It’s still weird Dean. You don’t think . . .”

  
You eyed him suspiciously, “What? Spit it out Sammy.”

  
He sighed, “You don’t think she’d let Kelly go on purpose do you?”

“Why in the hell would she do that?!”

  
“I don’t know Dean. Look, I like her a lot, but I just still find it really strange that she knows so much about our past and future, but yet she knows nothing about Lucifer’s child. It’s just, it seems weird to me.”

  
“Yeah, so what, stranger things have happened,” you said slamming a hand on the table, “Besides, she hasn’t lied to us yet. Until she does, we have no reason to not believe her.”

  
“I guess . . .”

  
You finished your beer, “I’m going to bed before you come up with any more cuckoo ideas. Tomorrow, we start hunting for Kelly.”

  
Without another word, you left the table and headed to your room. It was almost midnight and you were surprised to find that she wasn’t in there. You backtracked and knocked on her door before opening it up. She was lying in the dark, but reached over and turned on her bedside table when she saw you leaning against the doorway, “What are you doing in here, doll?”

  
She wiped a few stray tears from her eyes, “Well, it is my room.”

  
You stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, “That’s not what I mean.”

  
She sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest, “I’m just . . . I’m just . . . so, embarrassed? Ashamed? Guilty? I just feel like I failed you and Sam and Castiel today and nothing I can do will fix.”

  
You laid down beside her and pulled her down so she was sprawled across your chest. She hugged you tightly and you let your hand play with her hair, “Well, at least you know what it feels like to be a real Winchester then.”

  
“This isn’t funny Dean,” she whispered. 

  
“I know, I know. But I’m being completely serious. Way too often, it’s a part of the job.”

  
“Just something else I’ll have to get used to I guess.”

  
“Yeah,” you replied solemnly.

  
She turned her head to look at you with a ghost of a smile, “As long as I have you, I know I can get through this.”

  
You leaned forward and gave her a sweet kiss before settling back against her pillow. You reached over and turned out the light as she ran her hand up and down your chest. After a few minutes, her hand stopped moving and she whispered, “Thanks Dean. Good night.”

  
She couldn’t see in the dark, but a few silent tears had pooled in your eyes. You tried to sound as composed as possible as you whispered, “Night princess,” for what might be the final time in your life. 

The next morning, she was her chipper self again. She made omelets and skillet potatoes for breakfast, vowing to make sure that “_her boys_” ate good while you all were home in the bunker. She wanted to continue to train with Sam, but you squashed that idea, and she surprisingly gave in easily and agreed to rest for a few days. So, for most of the morning and early afternoon, she read up on lore while you and Sam continued to look for Kelly. The two of you sat beside one another in the library in constant physical contact. You cherished every time you held her hand, felt her stroke your knee or caressed her cheek before giving her a kiss, because you knew it could be the last time you touched her that way. 

  
That afternoon, she wanted to go for a walk before she started dinner and Sam said he needed to get out of the bunker too, to clear his head. Thankfully, this allowed you to sneak down to the dungeon to check on Rowena, who you had snuck in, in the middle of last night. 

  
“Dean, are these really necessary?” Rowena asked, holding up her hands and shaking her chains at you. The harsh, metallic clicking echoed off the walls of the dungeon as you walked over to the table where the ‘_Black Grimoire_’ was open to a random page.

  
“Absolutely. You really think I’m going to let you sit down here, alone, with _this_ book and not have you on a supernatural lockdown?”

  
She answered angrily, “You already tore out the page with the spell I want, what more could I do?”

  
“I don’t know, but I’m not willing to find out.”

  
She huffed and pointed to a page, “Anyway, I think I found something here.”

  
“Really?”

  
“Yes. It’s a very powerful incantation, but if it works, it should send your little darling back home. I still can’t believe she’s from another reality.”

  
“Rowena, I’m trusting you a lot with that information, don’t make me regret it,” you threatened. 

  
“Oh, come now Dean. I promise to keep my lips sealed as long as you hold up your end of the bargain.”

  
“As long as it works, you’ll get your unbinding spell, Rowena. So, you got a list of ingredients or something for me to gather?” you questioned impatiently. 

  
She quickly wrote down several items on a scrap of paper and handed it over to you, but not before she asked, “Tell me Dean, why do you want to send her back? In Indianapolis the two of you seemed as thick as thieves. She’s funny, beautiful and seems to care about you, despite you being a stubborn pain in the arse with the manners of a Neanderthal and the dining habits of a toddler. If you toss this one back, I don’t think you’ll ever catch anything better.”

  
“_I know_,” you thought as you folded up the paper and tucked it into your back pocket. “Stay out if Rowena,” you warned as you headed for the exit. Before leaving and locking her in, you let her know that you would be back later that night to perform the spell, “I’ll try to be back by ten o’clock. Be ready.”

  
“Oh, I’ll be ready Dean, I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  
You slammed the door shut, “_I’m far too aware of what I’m about to do._”

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You strolled along the snow covered path that wound around the bunker, warmly zipped up in one of Dean’s thick jackets and hummed along to the Killers as “_Mr. Brightside_” blared through your headphones. Even though it was cold enough to see your breath, you were enjoying the small bit of warmth from the natural sunlight and crisp breeze as it whipped across your face. The song was circling around to the chorus when you suddenly felt a hand grab your upper arm and spin you around. 

  
You pulled your gun from the back of your waistband and took a few steps back to aim at your attacker. However, when you saw the figure in the trench coat before you, you lowered your weapon. You reached up and pulled your headphones off, “Cas, what the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that?!”

  
“I’m sorry, but I did call out your name several times,” he apologized. 

  
You tucked your gun into the back of your jeans and grabbed your phone to turn off the music before asking, “So, what are you doing here?”

  
“I wanted to talk to you, (Y/N), after what happened in Indianapolis.”

  
You crossed your arms and tapped your foot a couple of times, “Oh, you mean when I was shot by the Secret Service and punched by Kelly and you refused to heal me? Is that what you’re talking about?”

  
“Yes.”

  
“I still have my stitches in, you know.”

  
“Yes.”

  
You rolled your eyes and cried out in frustration, “Jesus Cas, can’t you say anything besides ‘yes’?!”

  
“Yes,” he replied matter of factly, “My vocabulary is quite extensive.”

  
You pursed your lips and gave him a bitchface that rivaled Dean’s, “So, what is it Cas? I’m still really pissed that you won’t answer any of my questions. Plus, I feel like every time you look at me, I’ve done something to disappoint you! What gives?”

  
Castiel stepped forward, “I understand how upsetting it must be. But (Y/N), if you trust me at all, please believe that what I’m doing is for the best. All will be revealed in time.”

  
“Cas, don’t creep up on me and spin me riddles. When exactly are you going to tell me everything that is going on? Two weeks, six months, five years? When?!” you asked, throwing your hands up in the air. 

  
“That, depends entirely upon you.”

  
“Me!” you shrieked, “Fine! Then tell me now.”

  
“I can’t,” he replied looking sheepishly at the ground. 

“You know Cas, when you used to pull these stunts on Sam and Dean, I thought it was pretty friggin’ hilarious. But now, living it, it’s bullshit!” you screamed.

  
Cas closed the distance between you and grabbed one of your hands. You tried to pull away from him, but it was futile, him being an angel and all. He waited until you gave up and made eye contact with him before speaking, “Please, (Y/N), trust me. It will all make sense one day and then I will answer every single question you can think of.”

  
You exhaled sharply, “_Hell, who am I to judge him. I’m lying to him about Jack and he doesn’t even know it yet. Wait a minute . . ._”

  
“Cas, I will give you the benefit of the doubt, if do one thing for me,” you offered. 

  
“That seems fair.” 

  
“You’re asking me to trust you and to put a lot of faith in you, despite the doubts running around in my head. So, if something happens like this one day, where the roles are reversed and I ask you to trust me about something, will you do it?”

  
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. 

  
“Ok, then I will try to trust you,” you uttered and leaned in for a hug.

  
“Thank you,” Cas said, releasing you from his embrace, “Well, I better get back to looking for Kelly.”

  
“Ok, see you soon.”

  
“Oh, and (Y/N)?”

  
“Yeah, Cas?”

  
“If Dean does something stupid in the next few days, try and forgive him, will you?”

  
“When does Dean ever do anything that’s not stupid?”

  
This caused Castiel to let out a soft chuckle, “Very true. Take care and go easy on him, he means well.”

  
Just like that, Cas was gone and you couldn’t help but to replay the conversation and Cas’ words as you made your way back to the bunker and started to cook dinner. Sam was still out and Dean was nowhere to be found, so you continued to listen to your music as you cut up carrots and onions and put the pot roast in the oven. 

  
You were standing in front of the metal island, peeling potatoes, when you felt two familiar hands rest on your hips. You set down the peeler and turned around, lowering your headphones. Dean’s eyes looked conflicted as he gave you a mega-watt smile. You could tell it was insincere, because the crinkles that folded up at the corner of his eyes when he really smiled, weren’t there. You placed your hands over his, “What’s wrong, Dean? Something happen?”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“You’re smiling, but you’re not really happy.”

  
“Of course I’m happy. I got a beautiful girl in my arms, there’s something delicious cooking in the oven and I get to pick the movie out tonight. It’s about time I introduced you to Elliot Ness.”

  
“Dean, you can be honest with me you know. If something is upsetting you, let me know. I’m not a mind reader, remember?”

“The only thing upsetting me,” he whispered seductively before lifting you up onto the island, “is that you are wearing too many clothes.” Suddenly, his lips were on you in a needy, desperate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him deeper into you, opening your mouth to allow his tongue to smoothly glide across yours. Unexpectedly, you felt his hands at the hem of your shirt. He ripped it roughly over your head and tossed it angrily to the ground. 

  
“Dean! What if Sam walks in right now?”

  
He lower his head to kiss the tops of your breasts, “I don’t care if he does.”

  
You threw your head back and moaned as he sucked on your exposed flesh and you raked your nails along his scalp, eliciting a primal growl from deep in his chest. You felt his hand on your back, on a mission to undo your bra, before you were finally able to compose yourself. You pulled his head up by his hair and tugged. He moaned in pleasure and stared at you with lust blown eyes. You almost gave in right then and there and let him take you on the island. Somehow, you managed to speak in a stern voice, “Dean, I really, _really_ want this. But, not like this. Not the first time.”

  
“Come on sweetheart, let’s live in the moment,” he urged, returning his heavenly lips to nip at your collarbone.

  
“_Shit, this man is a fucking master with that mouth._”

  
You managed to push him away by his shoulders, “How about tonight? Hmmm? After dinner, we’ll cut out halfway through the movie and continue this, what do you say?”

  
He looked like a kid who just had his favorite toy taken away, “You’re a huge tease, you know that?”

  
“Dean,” you said hopping off the table to retrieve your shirt, “A, I’m not the one who sneaked up on the other and attacked them and two, I swear to fulfill my promise tonight, deal?”

  
You finished putting on your shirt and made your way back over to him. He still looked disappointed, but nodded his head, “Sure, sounds great babe.”

  
You reached up and gave him a quick kiss before getting back to dinner, “Now, if you really want to be of some use why don’t you peel these potatoes so I can start on your pecan pie for tonight?”

  
“Anything to help a lady in need,” he replied as he picked up the peeler. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

Dinner had been amazing, as always and you offered to was the dishes as she started to put the food away. You hadn’t planned on pouncing her this afternoon, but when you saw her in the kitchen, quietly cooking and preparing a meal for you, you knew it would be your last chance to sleep with her. It was completely selfish, and you knew that, but the magnetic pull she had over you was too strong to resist. Now, the opportunity had passed and was gone forever. 

  
You felt a slap on your ass and heard her laugh, “Dean! Popcorn? Yes?”

  
“Oh yeah, sorry. Of course,” you replied. 

  
“Good, because I already got you a bag popping, jackass,” she said as she planted a kiss on your cheek.

  
Once the kitchen was clean, you carried the popcorn down the hall to the living room with Sam and her in front of you. He had an arm slung around her shoulders and was mocking her for never seeing, ‘_The Untouchables_’. 

  
“Shut up, Sam. That’s not as bad as never seeing ‘_A Christmas Story_’. I’m going to have to fix that when it’s my turn to pick the next movie,” she teased. 

  
“Dean,” Sam called out over his shoulder, “I say we revoke her movie picking privileges.”

  
“Seconded,” you replied. 

  
“Motion carried! Sorry nerd, looks like no more movie picks for you!” Sam said in triumph. 

  
She scoffed, “I call bullshit on that, asshole.”

  
“Hey, don’t call me by any of Dean’s little pet names,” Sam taunted.

  
“Well, if the shoe fits, Samuel,” she tossed back, but Sam just rolled his eyes at her before teasingly smacking her on the shoulder. 

  
By this time, the three of you had made it into the living room and were settling in on the couch. She snuggled in under your arm and wiggled her eyebrows before leaning up to whisper, “You gotta let me know when the movie is halfway through so I know to sneak out of here first.”

  
You kissed her on the forehead, hugged her close and took a swig of your beer that she had carried down from the kitchen for you. Twenty minutes into the movie, you finished your drink and excused yourself to go get another. Before leaving, you gave her one final, tender kiss on the lips and whispered, “See you soon, princess.”

  
However, instead of heading towards the kitchen, you turned the other way and walked to the dungeon. You opened the door and were greeted by the Scottish witch, “Well, I was wondering where you were at. Thought you might’ve changed your mind about the little lass.”

  
You stormed angrily over to the alter she had set up to perform the spell, “Let’s just get this over with.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
While Dean was gone, you decided to stretch out across the couch until he returned. You were barely paying attention to the movie, too nervous and excited about what was to come tonight. “_It’s finally gonna happen. I’m going to sleep with Dean Winchester tonight! Maybe I should go shower or freshen up before all this goes down. Should I put on some makeup?_”

  
But your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, sharp pain in your stomach. You sat straight up and doubled over, crying out in agony. 

  
“(Y/N), what’s wrong?!” Sam asked frantically. 

  
“Ugh, something, something’s wrong with my stomach,” you said as your entire body started to vibrate.

  
Sam bent down in front of you and wiped your forehead, “You’re sweating like crazy and burning up. What the hell is this?”

  
You screamed again, louder, “_Fuuuuuckk_! I don’t know, but everything is getting fuzzy.” For a moment, Sam disappeared from your vision and you swore you saw your bedroom. 

  
“Hey, you’re fritzing in and out on me. Where are you going?” Sam asked, utterly confused. 

  
You grabbed on tightly to Sam’s shirt and begged desperately, “Hang on to me Sam, please! Don’t let me go!”

  
Sam grasped your shoulders tightly, but he started to fade away from your vision as the details of your room became clearer. You could practically smell the winter candy apple candle that you liked to burn by your bed during the winter and feel the cold, wooden floorboards on your feet. You clutched onto Sam with all your might and fought hard to pull yourself back to him.

  
“Come on nerd, hang on! I got you! Dean! Something’s wrong!” He called out, but it sounded like a whisper at this point. 

  
Finally, with all of your might and power, you screamed, “_Noooooooooooooooo!!!!!!_” and willed yourself to stay with Sam. Your bedroom dissipated out of sight and the pain in your stomach subsided. Sam’s hands ran up and down your arms several times before he finally held your face, “Hey, are you ok?”

  
You took several deep breaths to try and calm your nerves, but a fierce wrath was building up inside of your soul, “I am. But Dean isn’t going to be. I don’t know how, but I just know he is behind this.”

  
“Wha . . . Dean? You don’t think he had something to do with this, do you?” Sam asked. 

  
“Move, Sam!” you barked as you threw yourself off the couch and marched determinedly out of the room to find Dean. 

  
“Dean! Dean!” you practically snarled at the top of your lungs as you wandered up and down the halls of the bunker, “Where the hell are you?!” You rounded a corner saw him exiting the dungeon with Rowena, who was clearly holding the ‘_Black Grimoire_’ in front of her. She looked utterly stunned to see you, “Wait, how are you still here?!”

  
You ignored her as you stomped over to Dean and before you knew what you were doing, you pulled back a hand and slapped him across his face, “What the actual fuck Dean!,” you yelled as hot, angry tears ran down your face.

  
He rubbed his cheek and turned his head back to stare at you. His jaw was set and his eyes seemed dark and empty as you continued to yell at him, “After everything we’ve been through, after everything I’ve done and said to you, you’re going to be a fucking coward and try to use Rowena and a spellbook, which I helped you procure by the way, to send me back to my original reality? The one I wasn’t even really supposed to be in!?” Still, he said nothing. 

You heard footsteps approaching behind you and knew Sam must’ve caught up to you, but you were too pissed to care about anything else. You thought about all the special little moments you had shared together, the first kiss on Baby, you taking a picture and making it his screensaver, cuddling up to him every night as you fell asleep, the food fight at Thanksgiving . . . suddenly they all seemed tainted.

  
“What, am I really too nerdy for you? Not tough enough? Maybe I’m not spreading my legs fast enough for you, huh? Is that it?! If you were unhappy with this, then you should’ve grown a pair of balls and told me! Don’t be a pussy and call a witch to do your dirty work for you behind my back! Goddamn you!” You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces as you began to bawl and punch him in the chest, “I _HATE_ you, Winchester! I _HATE_ you, asshole! I fucking _HATE_ you! I _HATE_ you! I _HATE_ you!” 

  
You don’t know how many times you hit him, but Sam finally stepped in and grabbed you from behind, pinning your arms to your sides. You continued to fight and kick, but he spun you around and gently pushed you back, “Enough!”

  
“Fuck you Sam!” you spat back angrily, “And fuck you Dean! I hate you! I truly fucking hate you!” You could see that Dean had taken a few steps towards you, and no way in hell were you going to let him try and explain or touch you, so you took off running. You heard the brothers arguing, but you managed to make it to your room before anyone caught up. You cried uncontrollably and felt sharp pinpricks in your lungs every time you tried to take in a breath. You locked the door and pushed your dresser over to block it, before flinging yourself onto the bed and dissolving into an ugly, sobbing mess. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“Move Sam,” you ordered as your little brother continued to block your path. 

  
“No,” he said unmoving. 

  
“Sammy, move. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

  
“I’m not moving, Dean! What the hell was that? Did you really try to get rid of her?”

  
You tried to push past him, but he grabbed shoulders and shoved you back, “This doesn’t concern you, Sam!”

  
“Like hell it doesn’t! I’m the one she held onto to stay here. I’m the one that saw how much excruciating pain it caused her to fight whatever was pulling her back. Plus, she’s my friend too! So yeah, this has a lot to do with me!”

“Excuse me boys,” Rowena interrupted, “But if I could collect my payment, I’ll be along my way and you can continue this little family drama in private.”

  
You snatched the spellbook out of Rowena’s hands, “Strap on your broom and go Rowena.”

  
She lowered her head and narrowed her eyes, “We had an agreement!”

  
“Yeah, and you didn’t fulfill your part! So, go!” you yelled. 

  
“Dean, you didn’t . . .” Sam uttered. 

  
Rowena started to walk away, “Oh yes he did Samuel. He made a deal. Put the girl back and I get the spell that I want. But don’t be mad at me Dean. That spell worked like a charm. It’s not my fault if there’s something more going on with that girl that kept her from leaving.”

  
“Just shut up and get the hell out of here Rowena!” you bellowed. 

  
“Fine,” she spat out through gritted teeth. But just before she rounded the corner out of sight, she added, “For the record, that was a very powerful spell I used. It would take a Herculean amount of strength to resist it.”

  
“Here,” you said shoving the book into Sam’s chest and pushing past him once and for all, “put this back.” Sam tried to stop you, but you slipped your arm out of his grasp and ran to her room. You could hear her bawling inside as you banged and knocked on the door, “Come on, open up (Y/N). Let me talk to you!” Nothing. No response except for the continued sounds of her crying. She continued to wail and you finally gave up knocking, turned and slid to the floor in front of her door. 

  
“_How in the hell did that not work? What am I even going to say to her? How can I make her understand . . .?_”

  
“Dean, leave her alone for the night, you’ve done enough,” Sam commanded from above. 

  
“Sammy, I swear to Chuck that I will kick your ass,” you replied, staring up at him and just begging for an outlet to unleash all your pent up rage. 

  
“Dean, listen to her man. She’s devastated. If you care about her at all, you’ll leave her alone for the night,” he said before walking away and heading for his own room. 

  
You knew you didn’t really know what to say to her and that she would be even more pissed or upset if she opened her door and saw you sitting there like a guard dog. So, after a few more minutes, you pulled yourself off of the floor and dragged your feet slowly to your room, not bothering to change your clothes before falling into bed. You eventually fell asleep, but were plagued by nightmares involving her dying over and over all night long. 

  
The next morning, you awoke and the sharp ache that had erupted in your chest you saw the betrayal in her eyes last night, was still there. Your left cheek still stung from her slap and reminded you of how much you had fucked up. You were tempted to knock on her door to check on her. But when you passed by her room and heard silence, you decided to let her continue sleeping. You sauntered off to the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee and poured a bowl of cereal. You sat down at the table and continued to try and figure out what you would say to her, if she ever allowed you to speak to her again. 

  
“Dean! Dean!” Sam called out in a panic.

  
“Kitchen!” you yelled back. 

  
“Dean, what the hell are you doing?” 

  
“It’s called breakfast. The first meal in a traditional three meals a day plan.”

  
“You . . . Ugh” he said with a roll of his eyes before continuing, “How can you eat at a time like this?”

  
“One, I’m hungry and B, I have a feeling I’m going to need my strength for today.”

  
“Did you check on (Y/N) this morning?”

  
“No,” you said ashamed, “I didn’t want to wake her up.”

  
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” he said handing over a letter. 

  
“_What the . . ._”

  
On the front of the folded up piece of paper, she had written, “_To Whom it May Concern_”. You looked at Sam, confused, and he nodded, signaling for you to open it up and read it. You flipped the paper open and felt utter terror spread across your body when your heart jumped up in your throat as you read her message:

_I get it, I’m not wanted here anymore, not that I ever was._

_Don’t worry about me, I’m gone and will no longer be a burden._

_Good luck with all your future hunting endeavors._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little bit of a cliffhanger here . . . sorry, not sorry? 😉.


	25. The Family Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Dean finds out you’ve left the bunker to fend for yourself? After all, there are so many dangerous things in this world . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone that continues to comment, give kudos and bookmark the story. Keep it coming, it makes me so happy to hear feedback! Now, onto the chapter!
> 
> Also, I found an awesome story on here that’s another Dean Winchester romance tale. If you like this, go check it out! It’s “Et Cetera” by “whatareyousearchingfordean”. Go give the story some love!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“_Dear Chuck, will I ever stop crying?_” you thought as you pulled another Kleenex from your travel pack of tissues and blew your nose violently. 

  
The sun was starting to creep over the horizon, brightly greeting another day on Earth. You however, felt dark and cold on the inside and wished the outside world would reflect that. It had been five hours since you started aimlessly driving east, just trying to put as much distance as possible between you and him. You thought that the further away you got from Dean, the less tormented you would feel. 

  
“_Boy was I fucking wrong. Guess I’ve been wrong about a lot of things recently_.”

  
Fresh tears welled up in your eyes when your cellphone started to vibrate in the seat beside you, telling you that one or both of the Winchesters had realized you were gone. After all, they were the only ones with your number in this world. 

  
Last night, you had eventually cried yourself to sleep. When you woke up, you looked at your phone and saw that it was a little after 2 a.m. You thought through your options and realized that you were tired of playing whatever game Dean had dragged you into. You hastily packed up a few of your things, left them a letter to let them know you were gone and hopped into your Kia. You traveled south for a little bit, stopping at stores that were open so you could get out as much cash from your credit cards so that they couldn’t track you. Once the cards were maxed out, you started heading east, subconsciously headed back to Kentucky. 

  
Now that morning was upon you, you really weren’t surprised that one of them was trying to reach out and see where you were at. Even if they didn’t really care about you, it was in their nature to try and make sure you were at least safe. After the fourth time your phone vibrated, you finally turned it off and continued down I-70. 

  
You were about an hour past Kansas City when you decided to pull over in a little town called Concordia for a few hours of sleep. You picked up a little breakfast from a fast food drive-thru and couldn’t help but notice the pitying looks you got from the employees. You pulled down your visor and looked in the mirror. You hair was a tangled mess, your eyes were puffy and nose was red. “_Screw it, I could give a shit how I look right now._”

  
You checked into a “_Days Inn_”, ate your breakfast and decided to take a long, hot shower. The steaming water felt good on your back and you hoped that it would help to scrub away the tactile memories of Dean. “_How could I be so naïve? Dean Winchester? Me? Of course he would never really be interested in a geeky civilian like me. But I . . . I never thought that he would toy with me . . . ,_” your thoughts trailed off as you started to sob once once. 

  
Once the water ran cold, you pulled on a pair of pain black sweatpants and a shirt that had “_American Horror Story: My Roanoke Nightmare_” printed across the front. You climbed into the queen size bed, not even bothering to brush your hair. You were almost asleep when there was a knock at your door. 

  
“Miss? Miss?” a soft, female voice called out. 

  
You stayed in bed and decided to ignore the voice. However, whoever it was at the door was insistent, “Ma’am! I know you’re in there! This is the manager. We need a credit card on file for incidentals.”

  
You huffed and rolled your eyes before calling out, “The man at the front desk said if I put down an extra hundred dollars that that wouldn’t be necessary.”

  
“I’m sorry he was wrong. I need you to come to the door, now.”

  
“_Who’s knob do you have to polish just to get a little sleep!?_”

  
You struggled out of bed and started to walk towards the door as the intruder pounded on the door once more, “Ma’am, don’t make me call the police. Open up now!”

  
You peeked through the peephole and saw a middle aged, Caucasian woman dressed in khakis and a bright polo shirt. Her name tag said “_Margaret_” and below her name, was the word “_manager_”. You opened the door, “Look ma’am, I don’t have a credit card to give you. All I have is cash. Please, I just want a little sleep and then I promise to be out of your motel,” you pleaded desperately, hoping she would understand. 

  
Margaret thought about it for a few seconds, but then suddenly, she shoved you hard against your chest, throwing you back into the room. You hit your head on the half-wall dividing the living room from the kitchen area. “_What the fuck?_”

  
The manager stepped forward and shut the door behind her. You quickly scampered to your feet as a wide grin spread across her face, making your stomach turn, “Sorry, (Y/N), but you won’t be going anywhere.”

  
“Who the hell are you?” you asked, taking a defensive position.   


“Let’s just say, you and I have unfinished business,” she replied, her eyes flashing red.

  
“Demon,” you said calmly out loud. 

  
“That’s right, and not just any demon, but we’ll get to that later. For now, you’re coming with me.”

  
“The fuck I am!”

  
“Margaret” threw a punch, but you were able to deflect it. However, she quickly sent a fist flying toward your face and you heard a sickening *_CRACK_* as she made contact with your nose. You stumbled back, gripping your nose as you felt blood start to pour down your face and hands, tasting the metallic fluid as some of it trickled into your mouth. You heard the demon cackling and looked to her, “Is that all you got, skank?”

  
“Actually, no,” she taunted, pulling out a hypodermic needle from the back of her khakis. You stared at it’s contents while she explained what it was, “This is a little bit of a horse tranquilizer. Not enough to kill you, but enough to knock you out for as long as I need.”

  
“Good luck getting that in me,” you snarked. 

  
“I already hit you once, this shouldn’t be an issue.”

  
“Bitch, you will never touch me again,” you replied, spitting blood in her face.

  
She wiped her face and inserted a finger into her mouth, “Mmm, tasty. Can’t wait to have more.”

  
You scrunched up your face, “You’re disgusting.”

  
“And you’re dead!” The demon lunged towards you, but you grabbed the wrist that was holding the needle, twisting it until she dropped the tranquilizer. You quickly kicked it under the bed, but this allowed her to punch you in the gut, knocking the wind out of you. She turned to retrieve the tranquilizer, but you snatched her by the arm and flipped her around. You quickly landed a few punches to the face, disorienting her, before kicking her right knee, causing her to fall to the floor. You grabbed a fistful of her hair and threw several more punches. 

  
She held up a hand and used her demonic powers to pin you against the motel wall, “Enough!” Your knuckles were torn and bloody, but you relished in the burning pain, because it meant you had kicked another demon’s ass. “Margaret’s” face was covered in blood and one of her eyes was already swelling shut. You let your cockiness get the better of you, “Aww, come on Margaret, I just roughed you up a little bit. Can’t go more than one round with a human?”

  
“I don’t have time for this,” she scoffed. She leaned her head back and opened her mouth wide. Black smoke came billowing out of her forcefully and headed directly towards you. “_Fuck, no!_” you thought terrified, but it was too late. You tried to keep your mouth shut tight, but the demon forced it open and suddenly your vision went black. 

  
When you finally opened your eyes again, your surroundings had changed. You were in a cavernous, dark, cold space with a floor to ceiling screen in front of you that showed the destroyed motel room. You stood, but were unable to move far because each of your limbs were individually handcuffed to old fashioned iron chains, welded to steel plates on the floor. The image on the screen flickered back and forth between darkness and the room a few times before you heard your voice, but it wasn’t you speaking, “Now that I have you contained, let’s try this again, shall we?”

  
You watched as the demon approached the bed, bent down and felt her grab the needle with your hand. You pulled and tugged against the chains, but they didn’t bulge. You breathed hard and fast as you cried out, “You hag! You fucking demon, dick! Let me go!” 

  
“No, I don’t think I will just let. I still need you. But first, how about a chance of scenery?” she said in your voice just before she jabbed the needle into your thigh, causing you to black out once more.

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV **

“What the hell is this supposed to mean?!” you screamed at Sam, throwing the letter onto the kitchen table. 

  
“It’s means you did it Dean. You wanted her gone, so she’s gone. Congratu-fucking-lations,” he replied spitefully. 

  
You wrapped your bathrobe tightly around you and headed towards her room. Not even bothering to knock, you flung open the door and saw that her things had been haphazardly tossed around. There were a few piles of dirty clothes on the floor and some of her personal items remained, but the drawers of her dresser were all thrown open and empty.

  
“_Where the hell is she gonna go?! How is she even going to . . ._” You turned and ran from her room, headed towards the garage. When you arrived, you skidded to a halt and stared at the empty parking spot where her car had been just hours before. Sam had been right behind you, following in your footsteps. 

  
“Dude, she’s really gone,” he said quietly, “You didn’t want her here and you got your wish.”

  
You rand your hands through your hair in frustration, “That’s not . . . it isn’t . . . Not like this, Sam,” you stammered, unable to form full sentences. You inhaled deeply and finally turned to look at your brother, “Man . . . I just wanted her safe and sound back in her own world.”

  
“Dean,” Sam scolded, “You keep forgetting what Castiel said. This is her world. She’s in it, and with us, at least she was safe. But now . . . now she’s out there on her own.”

  
The guilt sat on your chest like an elephant as you struggled to breathe, “We, we have to find her Sammy. We just have to!”

  
Sam crossed his arms, “Why?”

  
You stared at him, dumbfounded, “Why, what do you mean why? She could be in danger!”

  
“Yeah, Dean. If you want me to help you, tell me why it matters if she’s in jeopardy. Is it just because you feel like you need to protect her, because she’s a job or . . .” 

  
“Or what?” you asked, emotionally overwhelmed. 

“Or do you really care? Because if she’s just a job, I’ll do it, alone. I’ll find her and make sure she’s really safe out there. The last thing she needs is you messing with her head . . . again.”

  
“_Son of a bitch, I can’t do this right now. Why does he have to be so nosy?_”

  
“Well, Dean?” Sam pushed. 

  
You grabbed the back of your neck with your hand and rubbed back and forth, “Sam, let’s just say that when we find her, I’m never losing her again. Ok, is that enough of an explanation for you?!”

  
“That’s what I thought.”

  
“Ok yeah, yeah, enough with the melodrama. How are we supposed to find her? Usually, I’d say track her phone, but hers came with her and has magically seemed to work the whole time she was here. So that’s not an option.”

  
“Lucky for you, I anticipated that you would piss her off to the point where she’d take off. So, I installed a LoJack on her car.”

  
For the first time since you read her letter, you felt a glimmer of hope. You stepped forward and held your brother’s face in your hands, “Sam, you conniving little son of a bitch. I could kiss you right now.”

  
He pulled away, “Please, don’t. Anyway, I checked it before I came to you and it looks like she’s headed east. She’s a few hours ahead of us, but if she stops somewhere, we should be able to catch up with her.”

  
“Great, let’s change and hit the road in ten,” you ordered, slapping him on the back as you rushed past him. 

  
“Oh and, Dean?”

  
“Yeah?” you replied, just before leaving the garage. 

  
“I tried to call her several times already, but she won’t answer. I’m guessing if you call too, she won’t pick up. But you should try anyway. You need to hear her voicemail.”

  
You started to ask what it said, but instead just nodded your head once and continued on to your room. Once there, you pulled on some jeans, a black t-shirt and a blue button up. Before grabbing your jacket, you decided to follow Sam’s advice and pulled out your phone. Your heart warmed as her face lit up the screen. That picture she had taken on the side of the road that day seemed so childish and immature, but now, it was one of your most precious possessions. You scrolled through your phone, found her number and called. It immediately went to voicemail, “Great, she’s got her phone turned off,” you thought before her shaky voice came on the line.

  
“_If you’re reaching this, then you must be a Winchester. Sam, thank you for being a great friend and an awesome surrogate big brother to me this last month. I love you, you goofy string bean. But you can hang up, the rest of the message is for Dean . . . or be nosy and don’t, I’ll have no way of knowing,_” she took in a deep breath, “_Dean . . . This is the fourth time I’ve tried to record this so I hope I get it right this time. You are a manipulative coward. I don’t know what game it is you were playing with me, but I’m taking myself off the board. Don’t feel like you owe me anything or need to make sure I’m safe, because I will be fine without you. I knew what I was getting into when I opened myself up to you and I was perfectly happy to do so. But, I didn’t dare dream that you would deceive me like you did. Damn it! Dean, I was . . . I’ve loved you for a long time and I . . . I think I was starting to fall in love with you. But now, I see it was all just a ruse for your sick entertainment and I didn’t mean anything to you. So, do what you should’ve done before you kissed me and let me go. Goodbye._”

  
You head a beep, indicating you could leave a message. All you could utter out was, “I’m . . . I’m sorry,” before hanging up the phone. 

  
You were surprised when you felt something wet drop onto your hand. You looked down and saw the clear liquid and realized that you were crying. That guilty pressure was back on your chest, forcing you to breathe heavily. You wiped the few stray tears away from your face with the back of your hand before standing up from the bed. You grabbed your jacket and were determined to make things right between you and her, even if it meant apologizing everyday for the rest of your life. 

  
If Sam noticed you had been crying, he didn’t say anything as you peeled out of the bunker with him, headed East to retrieve your girl. He tracked her car to a motel just off the interstate in a town in Missouri. You stopped once for gas, but otherwise, you drove straight through and sped the entire way. When you pulled up to the motel, you unconsciously smiled to yourself when you spotted her car and all the bumper stickers on the back. 

  
You and Sam pretended to be F.B.I. agents to get her room number from the front desk. The two of you creeped quietly towards her door and knocked, “(Y/N)? Please come to the door so we can talk.” There was no answer, so you knocked a litter hard and realized her door was unlocked. You and Sam stepped in and when you saw the broken furniture, the blood on the carpet and her duffel bag still on the bed, your blood ran cold. 

  
“Sam,” you said in a panic. 

  
“Yeah, this doesn’t look good,” he agreed. 

You instinctively pulled out your phone to call her and were surprised when an unfamiliar voice answered, “Hello Dean, I was wondering when you’d catch up with your little pet.”

  
“Who the hell is this?!” you screamed into the phone. 

  
“You don’t know me, but I know exactly who you are and who you’re looking for.”

  
“Where is she?! I swear, if you hurt a hair on her head . . .”

  
“Heel boy. Believe me, it won’t be her hair I’ll be hurting . . .” the strangers voice trailed off and you heard her screaming in the background. 

  
“Damn you! I swear, you better run! Because when I find you, I’m going to rip your throat out!”

  
“Sticks and stones, Dean. Now, if you want her, come find her. I’ll text you the address. I’d hurry if I were you. I’m just starting to warm up,” and before the phone hung up, you heard her scream once more. 

  
“Come on Sam,” you growled as you headed back to the Impala.

  
“Dean, you know this is probably a trap right. We don’t even know what we’re dealing with here. What if it’s more than one monster that has her trapped?”

  
“Then God help them all,” you replied angrily as you climbed into the front seat. 

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
The first sound you heard was the quiet *_drip_* *_drip_* dripping of water falling onto a metallic pipe. Your face was sore and sticky from dried blood and your back was cold from the cement pole you were tied up to. Your arms were wrapped around your back, bound at the wrists by rope by the feel of it. You soon heard footsteps approaching and it sounded like they were speaking to someone, but you only heard half of the conversation. 

  
You looked up just in time to see the demon hovering over you, with your phone pressed to her ear. “Heel boy. Believe me, it won’t be her hair I’ll be hurting,” she said with a sadistic smile as she pulled out a knife and made a deep vertical incision on your chest, causing you to cry out as the hot, sharp pain invaded your senses. She finished her conversation and before she hung up the phone, she made another cut, millimeters from the next one, making you scream out again. 

  
She slid the phone into her pocket, “Looks like Batman and Robin are on their way to save the damsel in distress,” she teased before slicing at your chest again.

  
In between your screams you thought, “_No, I was so careful! How did they find me. I don’t want them to find me!_”

  
“They’ll never come here. I’m not worth it.”

  
“Aww, don’t sell yourself short there. Dean sounded pretty upset.”

  
“He’s a hunter, that’s what they do.”

  
“Either way, I’ll soon have exactly what I want,” she said before punching you several times in the face. 

  
You could feel your cheek start to swell and your face was hot with fresh blood. When she finished her attack, you yelled up at her, “Why?! At least tell me that, why are you doing this!?”

  
She started to slowly hum “_A Bicycle Built For Two_” as she made her way over to a table with a tray of what looked like surgical tools. You hand’t noticed it before, but the sight of it made your throat run dry. She sat down her knife and picked up a small, sharp scapula, continuing to hum as she made her way to stoop down beside you. She held the instrument up to your face and threateningly twirled it in her hand several times, “Let’s just say, it’s family business.” 

  
She pulled up your right sleeve and made several quick cuts before pulling the scapula back in front of your face. You whimpered at the sharp stings, but did your best not to scream anymore, “_I’m not going to give this bitch the satisfaction._” 

  
You looked up at her just in time to see her close her eyes and lick your blood off the torture weapon. When she opened her eyes, they were red again, “There’s something really special about your blood. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted before.” She turned her attention to your left should and repeated the abusive process again. 

  
You started to feel slightly woozy when she grabbed your face, “Did you know, you can die from this,” she asked as she carved deeply into your chest once more. This time, you couldn’t help yourself as a little yelp escaped your lips. “If I cut long enough, you’ll eventually bleed out. First you get dizzy, which, by the glazed look in your eye, I think we can check off the list. Then you get cold and everything goes numb. If I go slow enough, maybe Sam and Dean will make it here just in time to watch you die.”

  
You spit in her face, “Fuck you, demon cunt!” you replied slowly, savoring each word as you struggled to breathe through the pain.

  
She backslapped you across your right cheek and you swore your eye was gonna pop out of its socket from the force of her hit. She made several quick cuts on your chest, leading you to hold in your breath until she was done. She smiled wickedly at you, but then turned her heard towards the front door. You heard it too. It was the all too familiar sound of Baby pulling up outside. You felt slightly relieved, but then horrified, knowing that Dean was going to put himself in danger just to prove he was the “good guy” after all. 

  
You heard the doors of your favorite Impala squeak open. You tried to call out to warn them, but your voice was stifled as black smoke rushed past your lips and down your throat. You found yourself once again chained up inside your own body. Just before the demon closed your eyes and slumped your head to your chest to pretend to be passed out, she whispered evilly, “It’s showtime.”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
It took half an hour to reach the address the monster had texted you, but it felt like it took you hours to get here. Sam had tried to calm you down and help you keep cool, but you were going out of your head with worry. When you finally pulled up to the abandoned building, you pulled around to the main entrance and saw that the door was open. The building was rusty with age and nearly all of the windows were missing their glass or had just a few shattered pieces hanging precariously in the frame. 

  
You went to the back of the Impala and pulled out a few basic tools before leading the charge inside. You peeked around the corner, gun drawn, and saw her tied up to one of the few support beams that remained standing. There was another body a few feet from her, but the woman didn’t appear to be moving or breathing. “Sam, check out the other body,” you commanded as you stowed your gun away behind your back and crossed the room to check on her. 

  
You felt a pulsating stab in your soul when you knelt down beside her. Her face was almost completely covered in blood, her left eye was swollen shut and it was obvious that her nose had been broken. There were several cuts on her lip and all across her arms and chest. She looked pale and when you reached up to grab her face, she felt like ice. The only solace you had was that she was breathing slowly, but evenly. You frantically stuttered, “Hey . . . hey princess, you awake?”

  
She groaned, “Go away, you’ve done enough.”

  
“Babe, it’s me and Sam. We’re gonna get you out of here,” you promised as you pulled out your knife and reached around to cut her loose from her ties.

  
“Dean,” Sam spoke up, “This other woman, she’s dead.”

  
Once her arms were free, she pulled them forward and slumped forward onto your chest. You rubbed her hair, “Do you think you can stand up?”

  
“I . . . I’ll try” she said, barely audible. 

  
You stood and pulled her up with you, allowing her to put all of her weight onto your arms. She leaned back against the pole and somehow, managed to give a small smile, “Hey honey, long time no see.”

  
You immediately felt something wasn’t right. “‘_Honey’? She’s never called me ‘honey’._”

Your looked to your left and caught Sam’s eye and he knew something was up too. “So, what exactly happened here, (Y/N)?” Sam asked. 

  
“It was some demon. Said they had family business to tend to, but when you two pulled up, it smoked out of that body and disappeared,” she answered before placing a hand on your cheek, “I’m just so glad you found me baby.”

  
“Why would it just tuck tail and run like that?” you asked.

  
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s coming back with reinforcements?” she offered. 

  
“Something doesn’t feel right about this,” Sam noted. 

  
“Dean, honey, I’m hurt. Can we, can we please just get out of here and we can talk about it on the way to a hospital?” she begged.

  
Suddenly, you had an idea, “Sure, but here, have some water. I’m sure you must be parched,” you ordered, looking to Sam. He got the hint and pulled out a flask of holy water from his jacket pocket. 

  
“No, I’m good,” she replied nervously, “I just wanna get out of here.”

  
“Aww come on doll, one little nip won’t hurt. Wet your whistle,” you said more forcefully. 

  
“I said I’m not thirsty,” she replied more sternly. 

  
“Ok,” you said before leaning into whisper in her ear, “Christo.”

  
You immediately felt her flinch and when you pulled back, you were horrified to see that her eyes were a deep red. Sam yelled, “Dean, that’s not her!” Just before the two of you were slammed up against the wall behind you. 

“Ya think!” you screamed back sarcastically. 

  
Sam tried to start an exorcism, “Exorcizamus te, onmnis immundus spiritus,” but his words were choked off when the demon reached up a hand and made a squeezing motion. 

  
“Enough of that,” she said as she sauntered lazily over to you, “Damn, I was really hoping to string this along a little bit, really get to mess with your heads.”

  
You felt sick to your core as you stared into her red eyes and watched the demon use her body to talk. “Who the hell are you?!” you shouted at her. 

  
“Hmmm, well now that the gang is all here, I guess I’ll tell you. The name’s Nicky.”

  
“Nicky? Pretty dumb name for a demon,” Sam managed to squeak out.

  
She looked at him and squeezed her fist tighter, “Shut it, Winchester! You may remember my brother. You killed him.”

  
“Hey, we kill a lot of demons, you’re going to have to be more specific,” you taunted. 

  
She stormed closer to you, grabbed your face and pulled you close so you were mere inches from her, “My brother was Jael,” she spat out angrily. 

  
“Oh, the _Canadian_ demon dick. Yeah, I remember him. Remember how our girl kicked his ass, Sammy,” you retorted. 

  
“I sure do,” Sam replied in agreement. 

  
She slammed your head against the wall before stepping back, “Oh did she now? Well then,” she continued to speak as she walked over to the other dead woman and picked up a scalpel that was laying by her body, “Maybe I should continue to repay the favor.” She pulled off her shirt, leaving her only covered by a simple white bra that was tinged crimson with blood, and made a deep cut on her own stomach, causing fresh, bright red blood to trickle down her body. 

  
“Stop! Get out of her!” you screamed out desperately before trying to start your own exorcism. “Exorcizamus te, omnis . . .” was as much as you got out before you felt a crushing sensation at your windpipe. 

  
The demon ran her hands up her body, fondling her breasts for a brief moment before running her hands through her hair, “Nah, I like this body,” she taunted. “Plus,” she held the scalpel up to mouth and ran her tongue along the blade, “Like I told the original owner, she tastes so damn sweet. I just feel so . . . powerful in this meat suit.”

  
She started to walk towards Sam, “You know, she really does care about you boys. You should hear her, screaming, begging for your lives. She’s been happy with you two, especially,” she pointed the scalpel at you, “with you Dean.” She took the sharp, little knife and slowly made a small cut across Sam’s left cheek. 

  
“Ahhhhh, get off of me!” Sam howled before she reached up and licked his cheek. 

  
“Yummy,” she said quietly, turning on her heel and headed towards you. “You know Dean, she really does love you. That wasn’t a lie. When I went poking around in her head for little tidbits of information, I was stupefied to learn that you have yet to sleep with her. What’s up with that?”

  
Your face dropped and you saw Sam look at you in disbelief before answering, “Quit snooping around in her head!”

  
The demon grabbed your hand and placed it over her breast, “What is it Dean? Not good enough for you?”

  
You tried to pull your hand away, but the demon held you firmly in place, “You know, she had a lot of plans for you. She was going to rock your world with all of her little fantasies and role play ideas for you. She may be a little geeky on the outside but,” she leaned in and whispered in your ear, “she’s a freak underneath.”

  
You were desperately trying to figure out a way to get the demon out of her, before she could hurt her or you or Sam anymore, but nothing was coming to mind. In a panic, you called out, hoping she would hear you, “Nerd! Fight this thing! I know you can! Come on Nerd!”

  
She laughed and pulled her head back. “She’s weak, Dean. There’s only one way you all are getting out of here, and it’s bloody and in pieces.” She held up the scalpel to cut your left cheek, but her hand started to shake and tremble. She laughed nervously, trying to cover up the fear you saw flash across her face. Suddenly, she was throwing the knife across the room and backed up several feet from you. The force that was holding you to the wall weakened as she continued to tremble. 

  
“Get out of me you fucking bitch!” she screamed as she doubled over, cleaning her stomach. 

  
Sam called out in encouragement, “(Y/N), you got this! Fight her!”

  
She started to cough, but then straightened up and you felt yourself being held against the wall even tighter than before. She licked her lips, “Woah, woah, settle down girl. You wouldn’t want me to tell Dean your dirty, little secret would you? I know how much you’ve been trying to keep it from him, and wouldn’t it be a pity if he found out . . .” but she was cut off as her body started to violently shake once more and you knew that your girl was fighting from the inside. 

  
“Come on princess! Push that skank out of you!” you pleaded with her as you started to pray internally to Castiel, “_Cas, get your ass down here and help her! You owe her!_”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
The amount of pain you were feeling was indescribable. You were still dizzy and freezing from the loss of blood you had sustained, but somehow, you had managed to free yours legs and one arm from the metaphorical chains. You knew exactly what she was about to tell Dean and there was no way you were going to let her tell him like that. You were struggling for control of your own body and almost had the final chain pulled from the floor, when the demon took control for a brief second, “I said, stop fighting you little maggot!” she yelled aloud. 

  
That’s when you felt her reach over with your left arm and violently pull your right arm, dislocating your shoulder. You gasped out in excruciating agony and felt fresh tears run down your cheeks. You could hear both Winchesters yelling profanities and making death threats, but you knew that until the demon was out of you, there was no way they would really hurt you. You had been praying to Castiel the entire time since the brothers arrived, but he was obviously not going to show or be of any help. 

  
You blocked out the thunderous pain in your shoulder and ripped the last chain from the floor, finally freeing yourself. You felt the demon start to rush up your throat, trying to escape, but you pulled her back in and snarled, “Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you yet, bitch.”

  
Your body was filled with a primal, animalistic rage. Not only had this demon dared to hurt you, but she had cut up your Sam and had tried to injure your Dean as well. You could feel her smoky presence swirling around inside of you, trapped. You focused all of your fury onto that dark, evil cloud and felt little tingles of electricity shoot up and down your limbs. You caught a glimpse of your hands and for a second, you swore they were flashing orange and yellow, as if a real light was emanating from inside of you. 

  
After a few seconds, you felt the demon’s presence dissipate and you were once again fully in control of your body. You hungrily took in air, gasping for each breath as your heart raced rapidly in your chest. You started to slump towards the ground, but Dean was there to catch you and helped lower you to the floor. 

  
Sam was immediately at your side as well and both of them looked relieved, but still slightly hesitant that it was actually you. Sam splashed some holy water on your chest, and when you didn’t react, they both visibly relaxed. However, they both still looked scared of you, like you would attack them again. Dean pushed back the stray hair from your face before he spoke, “Hey, you ok?”

  
Despite how zapped of energy you felt, you managed to reach up and push his face away with your left hand, “I hate you,” you said before turning to look at the younger Winchester, “Sam, can you get me to a hospital?”

  
Sam let out a soft chuckle, despite the fear on his face, “Sure, just hang on tight. We got you nerd.”

“You can take me, I’m still mad at him,” you replied. 

  
“You can hate me all you want but . . . ” Dean started to protest as he gently pulled your hand from his face, but you pushed him away again, “Hush, Winchester!”

  
Your vision was getting blurry and goosebumps prickled your skin as you started to shiver, “Sam?”

  
“Yeah?” he asked. 

  
“I . . . I think I’m gonna pass out now,” you announced as the world disappeared from your view. 

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“Yeah, that was definitely her. That was the reaction I was expecting when we caught up to her,” Sam said as she lolled her head into your chest. You had shaken her a couple of times to try and get her to wake up, but her pulse was strong and breathing was steady, so you decided to let her be. 

  
You laid her on the floor and pulled off your jacket while you looked to Sam, “Hey, go grab her shirt will you? Let’s cover her up before we head out.”

  
Sam went to retrieve her top and slowly started to put it on her as you shrugged off your button up shirt and started to fashion it into a sling, “We have to pop her arm back into place, Sammy,” your said quietly, voice laced with regret. 

  
“I know. I’ll do it if you wanna hold her still, just in case she wakes up.”

  
You nodded your head and pulled her back into your arms. You gave Sam the go ahead and on the count of three, you heard a loud *POP* as he forced her shoulder back into it’s socket. She let out a deep, long growl, but her eyes never opened. You handed Sam the sling and her slipped her arm into it before wrapping it around her neck. 

  
“At least she might not remember that part,” Sam said optimistically. 

  
You placed your jacket over top of her before scooping her into your arms, “Come on Sammy, you’re driving. I’ll sit in the back with her.”

  
A few minutes later, Sam was rushing down the backroad back into town to the nearest hospital, which according to his GPS, was half an hour away. She felt like ice in your arms, despite Sam also giving you his jacket to help keep her warm. 

  
“Sam, you gotta go faster. She’s like an icicle back here,” you pleaded. 

  
“Dean, I am. I swear, once we’re on the highway, I’ll break every speed limit,” Sam offered. 

  
A few more minutes passed until Sam spoke again, “Dean, we need to talk about what happened back there.” When you didn’t respond, he continued, “I mean, what was that?”

  
“That was her getting tortured by a damn demon because I’m an idiot. That’s what that was Sam,” you said angrily. 

  
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” he replied.

  
You knew what he was referring to. Just before she back control of her body, you saw something that you had never seen in your life, which was saying something considering you’ve been to hell, heaven, purgatory and everywhere in between. The demon hadn’t smoked out of her body or been exorcised back to hell. Instead, she had lit up golden orange and crackled, as if she had been stabbed by the demon killing blade. You weren’t sure if you were seeing things, but you were pretty sure that for a brief second, her eyes had glowed bright silver instead of their normal hue. 

  
“Dean,” Sam said tentatively, “Did she . . . Did she kill that crossroads demon, with her mind?”

  
You scoffed, “Nah, I mean, how could she do that?”

  
“I don’t know, but, that demon is definitely dead and we didn’t do anything to help her.”

  
“I know,” you replied slowly.

  
“Look, I . . . I’m just concerned. That demon said she was keeping a secret and then she inexplicably kills it, unassisted. What if, what if she’s something more than human? What if she’s a monster?”

  
“Sam, don’t you think if she were a monster we would know by now?” you asked, pulling her into a tighter embrace. 

  
“Not if she was something new we hadn’t seen before,” Sam replied. 

  
You knew Sam was making sense, but something inside of you trusted her completely and felt the need to defend her, “Sam, if she was a monster or something evil, don’t you think Cas would’ve told us?” 

  
“_Speaking of Cas, I am going to ring him a new one when he finally shows up. Where the hell are you CAS?!_”

  
Sam sighed, “Yeah, that’s true. But still, it, it just doesn’t add up. One thing’s for sure though.”

  
“What?”

  
“She is definitely a lot stronger than we thought. Dean, if this doesn’t prove it to you, I don’t know what will.”

  
You smiled and kissed her on the forehead, “Yeah, she is.”

  
“Dean, I have one more question for you.”

  
You exhaled deeply, “Yeah?”

  
Sam turned his head to look at you before asking, “Is it true?”

  
“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, Sammy.”

  
“Have you really not had sex with her yet?” he questioned, raising one of his eyebrows. 

  
You shrugged your shoulders and sat up a little straighter, “Just drive.”

Sam let out a quiet, “_Wooooooooooooow_,” before pressing down on the gas pedal to speed up, now that you had finally hit the highway. You pulled the jackets around her tighter and tried to focus on keeping her warm and breathing for the next twenty minutes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a lot going on here. What the Reader did, that’s definitely not normal. Hmmmmmmmm . . .


	26. Shake It Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After your run in with a crossroads demon, you recover in the hospital. However, the Winchesters refuse to leave you alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter than normal, but I hope you continue to enjoy it.

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

The familiar soft and steady *_beep_* *_beep_* of a cardiac monitor registering your heartbeat was the first sign that you were alive. You heard the rate increase as you opened your eyes and started to assess your surroundings. Your nose had a bandage wrapped around the bridge and your nostrils tickled from the oxygen flowing through your nasal cannula. You absentmindedly scratched at your legs, muttering, “Itchy,” under your breath as you tried to toss the generic hospital blanket off of you as best as you could with one hand. Your right arm was in a sling and you could see several bandages across your arms and chest. 

  
Thankfully, the lights were dimmed and it appeared to be nighttime outside the window to your left. You looked around and saw several IV pumps on a pole to your right with at least three different bags of solution hanging above them, pumping vital medications and fluids into your system. Your muscles ached and your chest and right shoulder burned as if flames were ablaze just under the surface of your skin. 

  
You groaned as you slightly adjusted your position in the bed, unexpectedly drawing attention from the emerald eyed hunter who had been asleep in the chair next to your bed. He rolled his head to face you and immediately wiped the sleep from his eyes when he saw you were awake, “Hey, how we doing?” he asked, voice unexpectedly soft and low.

  
You turned your head away from him, uttering out, “ I hate you,” before sleep claimed you as prisoner once more. 

  
The second time you woke up, it was from twinges of pain. You groaned and whispered, “Fuck me,” as you opened your eyes to see a young, attractive blonde nurse giving you an apologetic smile. She was changing your bandages and had obviously started applying some sort of topical cream that stung the bejesus out of your cuts. 

  
“Sorry, I thought this might be a little uncomfortable,” she said sympathetically, “But we’re almost done.”

  
“_We_?” you thought in confusion. 

  
You felt a strong hand brush back a stray hair on your chest and turned to see Dean holding a fresh bandage in his other hand for the nurse to place on your wounds. His attention was completely focused on you, “Yeah, we got you, sweetheart.”

  
You looked back at the nurse and said, “I hate him. Get him out of here,” before you fell asleep once more. You heard both of them chuckle lightly before he said, “That’s her new favorite thing to say.”

  
The next time, you were greeted by the sparkling blue, with a hint of hazel in the center, eyes of Sam Winchester. He was covering you up with that damned irritating blanket that made your skin crawl, “Sam, please don’t, it itches,” you begged. 

  
“Well, hey there girly,” he replied, taking the blanket off and leaving you covered by a thin sheet, “Dean just went to get something to eat after the nurse and I finally convinced him to stretch his legs.”

  
“I don’t care what he’s doing,” you said with a roll of your eyes, “But thanks for getting me help. You guys can go now you know. I’ll be just fine in a few days, I’m sure.”

  
“Uh . . . ,” he started off hesitantly, “Pretty sure that Dean isn’t going to go for that. Me either.”

  
  


“Look, you have been really good to me Sam and I know it’s in your nature to make sure that the damsel in distress is safe and sound. But I am. So, go on back to Lebanon. I’m sure you and him,” you said narrowing your eyes, “have bigger fish to fry.”

  
“You do realize who you’re trying to boss around, right?” he said with a smirk. 

  
“And you realize how stubborn I am, right?”

  
Sam laughed, “Are you hungry or want something to drink?” he asked, trying to change the subject. 

  
“Actually, I think I’m going back to sleep,” you replied, the weight of your eyelids suddenly starting to become too much to support. 

  
“I’ll tell Dean you said ‘hi’.”

  
“You tell that jackass that I hate him,” you ordered. 

  
The fourth time you awoke, you finally felt like you had enough energy to stay awake. The bandage was gone from your nose, but you still had the nasal cannula feeding you supplemental oxygen. You were surprised to find a luxurious, red and black checkered fleece draped across your body, helping to keep the chill away from the cold, sterile hospital air. It must’ve been early in the morning, because the sun’s orange glow was just starting to peek in through the window. Your left hand was tingling and you looked to see that Dean was laying on top of it, facing you. 

  
Despite the anger and hurt you still felt towards him, your heart fluttered as it took in the beauty of his soft, yet rugged features. He always looked so peaceful and carefree when he slept. He had several days worth of stubble covering his face, so much so that you might just call it a full fledged beard. 

“_Damn, he does look devastating gorgeous with facial hair,_” your internal self thought, slightly drooling. 

  
You tried to pull your hand away without waking him, but he grabbed onto it harder, holding it in a vice, “_I can see why wolves chew their limbs off to get out of a trap_,” you mused, rolling your eyes. 

  
However, when you did so, it finally caused you to take in the entire room and notice some changes. You weren’t sure if it had always been decorated like this and if so, how you could have been blind to it. Tears started to well up in your eyes as you scanned your environment and saw that every single surface in the room was covered in vases of various sizes and shapes. All of them, every single one, was filled with pink tulips and baby’s breath. Your breath hitched in your throat and your breathing became uneven and ragged as you were overcome with emotion.

  
Dean must’ve been woken up, because you felt him shift as he moved to stroke your hand with his thumb. His voice was laced with concern when he asked,“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

  
A dam burst and tears started flowing, despite your best efforts to hold them back. “What the hell is all of this?” you asked, gesturing around the room while trying, and failing, to maintain a stern expression. 

  
He looked slightly embarrassed as he ran a hand through his hair, “Well, uh, you see . . .”

  
“Spit it out, Winchester.”

  
He took in a deep breath, “Every time you said you hated me, I went down to the gift shop and bought a bouquet of flowers.”

  
Your inner self swooned, “_Awwwwwwww, no he did not . . ._”

  
“I don’t remember saying it this many times,” you responded coolly, but internally you were struggling to stay mad at him.

  
He chucked, “Well, you did. Plus, you were talking in your sleep as well.”

  
“And you think you can get on my good side just by buying me flowers?”

  
He shrugged his shoulders and gave you a charming smile, “Figured it wouldn’t hurt?”

  
You looked down at the blanket and, “This your idea too?”

  
“Sammy said you hated the other one.”

  
You shook your head, “Well, I have a blanket. I have an exorbitant amount of my favorite flowers and I’m starting to feel better. So, your work here is done, Winchester. You can go. Wait . . . How did you even find me?”

  
“That was me,” you heard the other Winchester brother speak up from the door to your right, “I . . . I figured Romeo over there would do something to piss you off so I kind of . . . Installed a tracking program on your car.”

  
“You what!” you shrieked, sitting up a little too quickly, falling back on your pillows when the room began to spin. 

  
Both boys were immediately at your side, Dean offering you a drink of water, which you reluctantly accepted. You were suddenly aware of how dry your throat was and you were gonna need to rectify that before giving the brothers the verbal lashing they deserved. 

  
Once they were convinced you were okay, they helped you to sit up with your back propped against the headboard. You continued to give Sam a death stare, but he just smiled and said, “Hey, it all worked out in the end, right?”

  
“_He has a point. It’s a good thing they showed up and were able to drive you to the hospital._”

  
“_Hush you, that’s not the point!_”

  
After you were done arguing with yourself, you yelped, “Boundaries, Samuel, boundaries! I want it off!” 

  
“Fine, I’ll take it off, promise,” he assured, but you knew he really wouldn’t. 

  
You wiped away the few stray tears that still plagued your cheeks before speaking again, “Well, as you can see, and as I told Sam,” you said looking pointedly at Dean, “I am all good. So you two can head back to Lebanon.”

  
“The doc said that as soon as you woke up and were ‘alert and oriented’, you could probably be discharged a day or two later. So, we can all head back after that,” Dean replied, using his fingers to make adorable air quotes around the medical jargon he was unfamiliar with.   


You breathed in deeply, “Dean, go.”

  
“As soon you’re ready, we’ll go,” he said sternly.

  
“I am not going back with you! You got your wish! You don’t have to pretend to be interested in me anymore. You and Sam need to leave, Now!” you said as loud as you dared, slamming you fists against your bed. 

  
Dean stared at you for several seconds, but you held resolute in your decision. No matter how strong your attraction was to his physical and internal beauty, you were not going to be hurt by him, again. It was hard enough to leave him once, but you had done it and you could let him go a second time. At least, you hoped you could. Finally, he broke eye contact, stood up and nodded at Sam. They both walked out the door and out of your life, without a glance back. 

  
You exhaled sharply and rolled over onto your left side, trying to keep from weeping. You were so damn sick and tired of crying and you just didn’t have the strength for it anymore. You started to seriously think about what your new life would be like here and how you would try to go about setting up an identity, finding a job and so on. Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the door slam behind you. 

  
You turned and saw Dean leaning on it, a determined look on his face. You shook your head, “Did you forget something? Where’s Sam?”

  
He marched over and took his seat back in his chair, “Sam, is on his way to your motel to drive your car back to Lebanon.”

  
“Dean . . .” you started to argue, but were swiftly cut off.

“No! You listen to me (Y/N)!” Dean said sharply. You were physically taken aback and, if you were completely honest, slightly turned on by his dominating tone. He continued, “Hate me. Hate me all you want! Tell me every damn hour of every damn day if you want. But I am not leaving you here alone and you will come back home with me when you get out of here.”

  
“Why would I do something idiotic like that?”

  
“Because I . . .” he lowered his head, “I’m sorry. Okay? There I said it. I was trying to protect you and keep you from getting hurt or becoming damaged like me. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

You were quiet as you mulled his words over in your head, “_Yeah, now that sounds like the Dean Winchester I know. So, maybe he really does care? If he was willing to work with Rowena, a witch, to try and ‘protect’ me, maybe he really has feelings for me?_”

  
“Well, a fat lot of good that did you,” you said, gesturing around the hospital room. He nodded, but didn’t say anything back, so you continued speaking, “Dean, I know how much of an alpha male, caveman ‘_Me Tarzan_’, man you are. But, you can’t make those life altering decisions for me. What you have yet to comprehend is that, I would rather spend one year fighting everyday for my life here with you than spend another seventy years in safety without you. Now, if you can get that through that thick skull of yours, then _maaaaaaaaaaybe_, I will consider coming back to Lebanon.” 

  
Dean grabbed your left hand and squeezed, “You got a deal, princess.”

  
The next two days were spent getting you back up on your feet and physical therapy started on your right arm. You had been drifting in and out of consciousness for the last five days and it felt good to stretch your muscles. You begged the nurse to let you shower and she conceded, as long as you sat in a shower chair. However, no way around it, Dean insisted on helping you. You adamantly refused to let him see you naked though.

  
“Dean,” you said as you undressed and got set up in the shower, with him on the other side of the door, “this is not how I want you to see me naked for the first time.” 

  
“So, does this mean I’m still going to get you naked someday?” he asked cheekily. 

  
“I didn’t say that!”

  
After you washed your body, you realized it was going to be next to impossible to wash your hair. So, you wrapped a towel around you as best as possible and asked him to help you. He did so without any mocking and you couldn’t help but to close your eyes and enjoy the feel of his long, strong fingers stroking through your hair, as he worked the shampoo and then conditioner through your long locks. After you were clean, he helped you dress and didn’t even try to sneak a peek at your exposed body. You were touched when he even offered to brush your hair after seeing how you struggled with your non-dominant hand. 

  
It was late in the afternoon when you were finally discharged and Dean had insisted that you bring your new blanket and at least one vase home. You opted for a glass, emerald green, teardrop shaped vase and Dean made sure to gingerly pack it in the backseat of the Impala. You had gone from hating him, to just being really mad, but the conversation had still been minimal over the last two days. Mostly you barked orders at him, and he took it without question. 

  
Now, you were in Baby, scooted as close to the passenger door as you could comfortably squeeze yourself. A little over thirty minutes into the drive back to Lebanon, his phone rang, “Yeah? Oh, hey Asa, look now isn’t a good time . . . Look I don’t care if it’s a whole pack, I can’t . . .”

  
“Your mom,” you interrupted, staring out the window. 

  
“Hold on Asa. What?” he asked, pressing his phone to his chest. 

  
“He’s in Louisiana right? Hunting a pack of werewolves? Tell him to call your mom. It was her first case back as a hunter, but Alicia called instead. They must all be hunting together now. But, believe me Dean, she’s ready.”

  
“Hey Asa, you got my mom’s number? Call her. Tell her (Y/N) suggested she come with you. Ok, good luck.”

  
After he got off the phone, he cleared his throat and nervously offered, “If you want, you can, uh, pick the radio station.”

  
You gave him a side glance, “You must be feeling bad if you’re gonna let someone else pick the music.”

  
He shrugged his shoulders and gave you a dazzling smile, “Better take advantage then, sweetheart.”

  
“Even if I pick something like this?” you said as you reached over and flipped between stations until you heard the beginnings of “_Shake It Off_” start to blare through the radio.

  
He tried to play it off, “Sure, doesn’t bother me at all.”

  
“Mmmhmmm,” you replied as you absentmindedly let your left hand linger in the middle between you and him.

  
He reached down and held your hand, but you continued to stare out the window, not letting him know just how much you had craved his touch or how whole you felt being in the Impala, on the road, with him once again. His warm presence, the cool leather of Baby’s black leather bench seat and his welcoming scent were the best medications you could possibly have at this moment and you were doing your best not to overdose. 

  
As the song made it’s way to the chorus, you could have swore you were hallucinating. Out of nowhere, Dean ‘only classic rock for me, thanks’ Winchester started singing along, in a high pitched, purposely off key voice, “‘_Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play and the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate_” and at the next part, he picked your hand up off the bench seat and shook it playfully, “_Baby, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake._”

  
You looked at him like he had grown a second head, “Who are you and what have you done with Dean Winchester?” 

  
He gave a wink and continued to sing and shake your hand. You bit your lip to keep from laughing at his childlike behavior, “How do you even know this song?”

  
“Are you kidding, you couldn’t go anywhere the last couple of years without hearing this in public. Eventually, your subconscious picks up,” he answered, making a spectacle of himself as he continued to bop his head along to the beat and dance in his seat. 

His face was too expressive and the way he continued to shake your hand and arm about, it was just all too much. You couldn’t help but to bust out laughing, “I am so telling Sam about this!”

  
“Go ahead, I don’t care,” he said nonchalantly with a blinding smile plastered across his face. 

  
“Dean, just because you’re making me laugh, does not mean I am still not mad at you,” you warned in between laughs.

  
“That’s fine by me,” he said as the song ended and “_Closer_” by ‘_The Chainsmokers_’ came on. You knew he would hate this too, but you absolutely loved this song and couldn’t help but close the distance between you and snuggle up next to him. He wrapped his right arm tentatively around your shoulders and quickly kissed the top of your head. Even though you had threatened to embarrass him by telling Sam all the details of his mini concert, you knew that would never happen. You would cherish this moment and make it the first special memory of your rekindled relationship. 

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
It was after 11pm when you finally arrived back home. She was starting to warm back up to you, and you would gladly continue to make a fool of yourself if it meant seeing her smile and laugh at you once again. Despite her protests, you insisted on carrying her things to her room, reminding her that she needed to take it easy. She had stitches in three of her cuts, her right arm would take a few months to fully recover and, honestly, you were still trying to work your way out of the doghouse. 

You walked side by side in silence and stopped to drop her things on her bed in her room. You bid her goodnight and made your way down to your own room. You waited up for half an hour listening to music, hoping she might come to sleep with you, but she never did. You put up your headphones and record player, turned off your light and rolled over. Just as you were about to fall asleep, you heard a knock on the door. You turned your light back on and called out, “Yeah?”

  
She quickly opened the door, stepped in and shut the door back. She was in red pajama pants and a black long sleeve shirt. She huffed, “I’m still kinda mad at you.”

  
“Okay . . .” you replied, unsure of where she was going with this.

  
She stomped over angrily to the bed and pulled back the covers before sliding in. She lay on her stomach, draping her left arm across your chest. She nestled in tightly and gruffly said, “Night Dean.”

  
You couldn’t help but to smile as you turned off the light and wrapped her tightly in your arms before whispering, “Night, princess.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love when Dean lets down his guard and lets himself be the big, goofy kid underneath his macho facade. Here’s to hoping he quits being an idiot and that the Reader can continue to try and forgive him!


	27. Marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean continues to try and make up for his mistakes. Sam learns a little bit more about exactly who you are and both Winchesters get a little more information from Castiel about exactly who . . . or what . . . you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short little chapter that ended up being a little filler for information, but the next chapter is long and this felt like it stood on it’s own. Thanks for continuing to read!

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
The next morning, you woke up before she did and you knew you had to continue working on digging yourself out of the grave you had buried yourself in over the last several days. You decided to sneak down and make her breakfast in bed. Just as you were plating up the eggs, bacon and toast, Sam appeared in the doorway. 

  
He took a look at the tray you had set up with the food and coffee and raised his eyebrows, “Think this is gonna make her forgive you?”

  
“I don’t know, but it certainly can’t hurt,” you replied, putting your dirty dishes in the sink for later. 

  
He sat down at the table, “So, I think I caught a case in Lancaster, Missouri. Women with their throats ripped out. Exsanguinated. I’m gonna go check it out. You in?”

  
You shifted nervously, opening and closing your mouth several times without giving an answer. You knew you should, it was your job after all, but _she_ needed you right now. Finally, Sam gave you an out, “Hey, if you’d rather stay here, it’s all good. I can handle this myself.”

  
“You sure?”

  
“Yeah, no worries.”

  
Without warning, Castiel appeared in the seat next to Sam and you couldn’t help but to feel resentful toward him, “Well, nice of you to show up, feathers. Where the hell have you been?”

  
“I’ve been searching for Kelly,” he replied. 

  
“Any news on that front?” Sam asked. 

  
“Unfortunately, no. So I thought I’d stop in and see how everything was going.”

  
“You couldn’t have done that a week ago? Damn it, I called for you Cas!” you responded angrily. 

  
“Yeah, we have a lot of concerns about (Y/N),” Sam added. 

  
“So I’ve heard,” Cas replied as he looked away guiltily. 

  
“So, did she kill that crossroads demon with her mind?” Sam asked bluntly. 

  
“_Please say no. Please say no. Please say no,_” you prayed desperately. 

  
“Yes, yes she did,” Castiel affirmed with what sounded like pride in his voice.

  
You and Sam shared a nervous look before he asked, “Come on, Cas. You gotta give us something more to go on. The only thing we’ve seen do that is an angel or me when I was high on demon blood. What is going on here?”

  
Cas took a deep breath, “I can assure you that her intentions are not malevolent. She is not a demon or an angel or anything to be feared.”

  
“So what is she?” you queried, curiosity getting the better of you.

  
“I think you already know that Dean,” he replied, obviously referring to Amara’s letter. 

  
Sam looked confused, but pressed Castiel, “Is she human?”

  
“Yes. For now . . .” Castiel responded, letting his voice trail off.

  
“What the hell does that mean?!” you yelled out.

But just as suddenly as he appeared, Castiel was gone. You rolled your eyes, “Son of a bitch!”

  
“Dean, what did Castiel mean when he said you already knew what she was?” Sam questioned. 

  
“I don’t know,” you replied quickly, trying to deflect the question. 

  
“Bullshit, you do! What are you not telling me? Dean, I’m your brother, you owe me that much.”

  
You stared at him and contemplated what to say for several moments. You knew he was becoming more and more leery about her daily, despite their friendly relationship, and you didn’t want him to hate her or be scared of her. 

  
“Fine, you wanna know what he was talking about?”

  
“Yes! Dean, please,” your brother begged. 

  
“The day she showed up, she had a letter, remember?”

  
“Yeah, that detail is a little hard to just forget.”

  
“Well, the note was from Amara,” you admitted reluctantly.

  
Sam’s eyes widened, “Amara? The . . . . God’s sister?”

  
“The one and only darkness herself.”

  
“And . . . and what did Amara say?”

  
You let out a deep breath, “The letter said that (Y/N) was misplaced and that she was, she’s supposedly my sou . . . my, my soulmate.”

  
“No shit . . . .” Sam said slowly, leaning back and crossing his arms. 

  
“Yeah, yeah it did. So, can we just give her the benefit of the doubt a little while longer and trust what Castiel says.”

  
“And . . . Do you think she really is your soulmate?”

  
You ran a hand through your hair, irritated from the inquisition, “Dude, I don’t know. We don’t get happy endings! That’s not us! But she’s here because of me, so she’s my responsibility.”

  
Sam’s serious expression was soon replaced by a mile wide smile as he started to guffaw and clap his hands.

  
“What? What’s so funny?” you questioned. 

  


He stood and made his way over to stand in front of you and clapped a hand on your shoulder, “Dean, if she really is your soulmate, you are completely and utterly in over your head. It sucks to be you. But, I can’t wait to see how this is going to play out.”

  
You grabbed the plate of food and drink, finished with this conversation, and headed out of the kitchen, but not before you called back, “Bitch!”

  
“Jerk!” Sam called out just before you were out of earshot. 

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
Dean’s voice whispered softly in your ear, “Hey, I got you something.” 

  
“Mmmmm, what?” you groaned, willing yourself to wake up.

  
He brushed the hair back from your face, “I made breakfast.”

  
You peeked one eye open, “And by made, you mean picked up from a restaurant, right?”

  
“Hey,” he said indignantly, “I can cook a few things.”

  
“You cooked?” you asked skeptically. 

  
“Yep.”

  
“Breakfast?”

  
“Yep.”

  
“For me?”

  
“Why is that so hard to believe? What show have you been watching? I can cook some stuff,” he proclaimed with a boyish grin. 

You sat up in bed and propped yourself against the back of the headboard before rolling up the sleeves of your shirt. He brought over a tray with eggs, bacon and coffee. It smelled heavenly and actually appeared edible. You looked down at the plate of food and then back up to see him looking at you expectantly, “Well, go on. Take a bite.”

  
Inside, the fan girl part of you was swooning and her heart was beating out of chest, but damn it, you were still supposed to be a little angry with him. You picked up the fork and spiked a chunk of scrambled eggs before tentatively taking a bite. You chewed and eventually swallowed before answering, “Not bad Dean.”

  
“Not bad?”

  
“Ok, they’re pretty good actually,” you relinquished. 

  
“That’s more like it,” he said, grabbing his own plate and taking a seat next to you. 

  
“You think you’re pretty charming don’t you? Making me breakfast in bed to try and continue to get back on my good side?”

  
“_And shit, it’s working!_”

  
“Why, is it working?” he asked with a knowing smile, leaning in closer so he was mere inches from your face. 

  
You bit your lip, “Nope, not a bit.”

  
He continued to move forward, searching for a kiss, but you leaned back and shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth. He was startled, but managed to chew the strip quickly, giving you a wink once it was finally consumed. The two of you sat on the bed, enjoying his homemade breakfast as you talked. 

  
“So, how’s Sam doing?” you asked. 

  
“He’s good. He actually thinks he found a vampire case a few hours from here and is gonna go check it out.”

  
“Well, I should be fine for a few days, but I want you both back here in time for Christmas. It’s just around the corner you know. And, even though I’m still . . . upset with you, I did promise your brother and mom a celebration. So, I guess you still get to participate as well.”

  
“Hold up, now you’re just upset and not mad?”

  
“Don’t push it.”

  
He let out a victorious chuckle, “Well actually, Sam is going to go by himself, but I’ll let him know you expect him back in time for the holiday.”

  
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Wait, you aren’t going with him?”

  
“Nah, he said he had it,” he said, finishing off his coffee.

  
You eyed him suspiciously, “You know, you can go if you want. I won’t even fight you about staying behind.”

  
“I’m good, really,” he reassured you as he collected your empty dishes and placed them back on the tray. 

  
“All right. Well, I better call your mother too and make sure she knows she’s expected here in a few days. Feel like driving a lady to the grocery store so we can pick up supplies for the meal?”

  
“No problem. But uh, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  
“What?”

  
“How much do you remember from that night with the demon?”

  
“_Oh yeah, I’ve been so totally focused on being mad at him that I didn’t even think to ask what happened to Nicky._”

  
“Pretty much everything. It was like, like I was chained to the floor and couldn’t control my own body,” you said staring off into space, “But when I realized she intended to hurt Sam and you, I just tried to fight back. Guess I won,” you added with a shrug of your shoulders. 

  
“What about, when you gained control. What happened then?” he asked nervously. 

  
“What do you mean?”

  
He huffed, his voice more gruff when he replied, “(Y/N), you . . . you killed that demon. It didn’t escape and we didn’t exorcise it. You killed it, with your mind.”

  
“No, no I couldn’t have . . .”

  
“You did, Cas said so,” he said nodding his head.

  
“I just . . . I was so angry and just concentrated all of my rage on it and it slowly disappeared from inside of me. I thought that I had maybe just sent it back to hell or something. I never thought I actually killed it. Dean, Dean how could I do that?!”

  
He held your hand, “I don’t know, but Cas did say it was all apart of his super secret information that he must’ve pinky promised to not tell.”

  
“Dean, I’m scared. What the hell am I?” you asked worriedly. 

  
He gingerly pressed his lips to your forehead, “Apparently something really special. If Cas isn’t concerned, I’m not either. So try not to worry too much, ‘kay princess?”

  
You looked deep into his eyes and saw that he was telling the truth. There was no fear, only concern for you. “Thanks, Dean,” you said before leaning in for a comforting hug. 

  
Dean pulled out all the stops for the rest of the afternoon, opening the car door, pushing the cart, doing the heavy lifting and so on while you ran errands. You couldn’t help but to be wooed by all of the sweet gestures and his unwavering attention to your every need. He offered to pick up a chicken meal for dinner and you convinced him to have a picnic in the living room while you watched Christmas movies. 

  
Mary and Sam said they should be back by Christmas Eve and you kept yourself busy over the next few days, cleaning and prepping, as much as Dean would let you. He spent his free time continuing to search for Kelly, but mostly he was focused on being at your beck and call. The last night the two of you had alone in the bunker, he reminded you that it was time to remove your stitches. 

  
He walked you down to the infirmary, which was another area of the bunker you had yet to explore. Surprising, it was set up with a lot of medical supplies that you easily recognized. There were six hospital beds, each with an EKG monitor, IV pole and an outlet for oxygen. Dean ordered you to hop up on the closest bed before helping you take off the white, long sleeve shirt you had been wearing all day. 

  
He folded it up and set it on the end of the bed. He briefly took note of the powder blue bra you were wearing, before focusing on the task at hand. He started to remove the stitches from your three wounds, “So, what’s been up with all the long sleeve shirts lately?”

  
You shifted nervously and avoided his gaze, “Well, it is winter Dean. People get cold and need to cover up to prevent a little thing called hypothermia and death.”

  
He wasn’t buying it, “But, we’re inside and you never wore those much before. What happened to all the dorky tops?”

  
“Dean, can we just drop it, please,” you pleaded as he moved on to the next wound. 

  
He didn’t push you any further, but you could tell the conversation was far from over. When he finished with the last wound, you looked down at your body, and tried, but failed, to hide your disgust at the two shiny pink scars on your chest and the one just below your breasts on your abdomen, “_If only I had been a little stronger or managed to fight off the demon sooner._”

  
“Hey!” he snapped gruffly, pulling your chin up so you were looking directly at him, “Is that what this is about, your scars?”

  
You gave a slight nod and he spoke again, “Listen to me. You wear those with fucking pride. You were possessed and fought off a damn crossroads demon. Those scars are a badge of honor.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against each area of disfigured skin. When he finished with the third one, he rose back up and pulled you toward him until you could feel his warm breath on your lips, “You are a fucking beautiful badass. Got it?”

  
You reached your hand up and ran it along his scruff. It had been almost two weeks since he shaved, and when you had mentioned that you liked his facial hair, he had decided to let it grow out a little bit before shaving again. You pressed your forehead to his, “Got it, Dean.”

  
Finally, he closed the minuscule gap between you and gave you a gentle kiss. You melted into his arms, as it was the first time you had kissed him before the fight and before you ran away. You had forgotten just how scrumptious he tasted, but you were quickly reminded as he slid his strong, pink tongue into your mouth. You moaned into him and raked your other hand up his scalp, grasping a fistful of hair to pull him closer into you. You felt his hands splayed across your back, holding you firmly against his chest. 

  
When you finally came up for air, you couldn’t help but to give him a goofy grin as endorphins flooded your brain, “Maybe I should get scars more often if you’re gonna do that.”

  
He chuckled, “So does this mean, you’re not upset with me anymore?”

  
You clicked your tongue several times before answering, “I should be. I want to be. But, no. I guess you’re on my good side again.”

“Well, it’s a Christmas miracle,” he said with a wag of his eyebrows before leaning in to kiss you again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now Sam knows that the reader is his brother’s soulmate. Too bad the reader is still out of the loop! If you’re enjoying the story, drop a comment and let me know! I love hearing when people are enjoying the story and it lets me know I’m not sending my words out into an empty void! 💋


	28. A Taste of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally get to celebrate a traditional Christmas with the Winchesters in the Men of Letters bunker. Everyone is excited to receive and give gifts to their loved ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could have written this faster and got it out before Christmas, but I kept getting ideas and the story got longer! Anywho, I hope you forgive me and enjoy a very Supernatural Christmas!

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
Sam had returned Christmas Eve morning and your mother promised to be there the next day, having successful dispatched the southern fried werewolves in Louisiana with Asa and, what turned out to be, his children, Alicia and Max. Upon your girl’s request, you had made your famous bacon cheeseburgers for dinner and now the three of you were settling in for another movie night before bed. 

  
“So, you finally gonna make me watch ‘_A Christmas Story_’? Sam asked, taking a drink from his beer as he lounged back in the recliner next to the couch. He had complained that it was a little too crowded on the couch for all three of you, so he opted to let you two have it all to yourselves. 

  
“Actually,” she said dropping the disc into the DVD player, “I’m going with another movie that some may call controversial as a holiday movie, but I stand firm in my declaration that it is a Christmas movie.” She gave you a wink and picked up the bowl of popcorn from the TV stand before trotting over and taking up her usual seat beside you. 

  
After your makeout session yesterday in the infirmary, it warmed your heart to see she had started to wear her usual tank tops and novelty t-shirts once more. You had meant what you said about her being a badass and you were determined to continue to make her believe it now, too. You threw a blanket over the two of you, “Well, what is it you’re making us watch?”

  
She picked up the remote and clicked play, revealing the title credits of ‘_Die Hard_’. Sam groaned in frustration while you smiled, “Yippie ki yay motherfucker!”

  
She giggled beside you and you congratulated her, “Nice choice, babe.”

  
She rubbed your thigh, “Yeah, I thought you’d like this.”

  
“(Y/N), this is not a Christmas movie!” Sam whined. 

  
“Sammy, we have this argument all the time. Yes, it is and now you see that you are wrong,” you replied. 

  
“Please, explain to me how this is a Christmas movie then?” he asked. 

  
She pointed to the screen, “It takes place on Christmas Eve at a Christmas party. What more do you need?”

“Exactly!” you said in agreement. 

  
Sam shook his head, “That, no, that doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make it a Christmas movie just because of that!”

  
“Yeah, it does!” you and her yelled in unison. 

  
“Sit back and enjoy the movie, Sam,” she added.

  
You reached down and grabbed her chin to pull her into a deep kiss, “I’m so glad you’re on my side.”

  
“Always, Dean,” she replied before playfully nipping at your lips.

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
Christmas morning, you were awoken by Dean’s phone vibrating. He obviously didn’t hear it, so you reached over and answered it when you saw it was his mother. She said she just wanted to let you know she was about half an hour out and wanted to know if she needed to bring anything with her. You assured her you had everything and wished her a ‘_Merry Christmas_’ before hanging up. 

  
You placed his phone back on the bedside table and rolled so that you were chest to chest with your favorite hunter. You brushed your fingers around his ear before letting them play with his beard. He stirred slightly, licking his plump, soft lips absentmindedly. You gently grabbed him by the neck, closed your eyes and pulled him in for a kiss. His movements were slow at first, but he finally started to move his lips against yours, little *_smacking_* sounds feeling the room in between each tender kiss. 

  
Suddenly, you felt his hand squeezing your ass, causing you to let out a small shriek before popping your eyes open. You pulled away from the kiss and saw he was already looking at you, “Merry Christmas to me,” his voice rich with desire. “Is this part of my present?” he asked, pulling you closer to his body.

  
“No, it was mine,” you teased as you slid a hand up and around his shoulder. 

  
He nipped at your neck, “Well, you must’ve been a very good girl this year.”

  
You arched your back into him, “I was. But you were a very naughty boy.”

  
He smiled against your collarbone where he continued to plant sweet kisses along your flesh, “Somehow, I think I still win though.”

  
He pulled back up so he was nose to nose with you and gave you a quick kiss, “So, who was on the phone?”

  
“Your mom. Said she’d be here in about half an hour. I think I’m gonna go make some coffee and get the turkey in the oven for dinner later. Wanna help?”

  
He gently rubbed his morning erection against your thigh, “Only if I can help with the stuffing.”

  
“Dean, it’s Christmas. You can’t talk dirty to me on Christmas.”

  
He reached up and tugged your earlobe in between his teeth, “Sweetheart, there’s never a bad time for dirty talk.”

  
You moaned breathily, “You do have a point there.”

  
He ran his tongue along your neck, “See, when are you going to quit being so coy and pretend you don’t love how dirty I am.”

  
You did your best to maintain your composure, “I can’t give in too easily now, can I? What would be the fun in that?”

  
He leaned back and you gazed deeply into his dark and heady eyes as he replied, “Trust me, there’d be a lot of pleasure in that.”

  
You patted his cheek, “Well, play your cards right and I just might have to find out.”

  
“Oh, believe me doll, you will,” he promised. 

  
About an hour later, you were skipping around the war room, doling out presents to the Winchesters from underneath the small Christmas tree. The bell on your red and white stocking cap *_dinging_* with each step.

  
“Hon, this is really too much, you didn’t have to do all this,” Mary protested as she stared at her gifts.

  
“Nonsense! I wanted to!” you said with a wave of your hands, “Now, the gifts that are wrapped in the shiny, red paper, each of you save those for last. It’s kind of like a group gift. Ok, does anyone need anything? More donuts or coffee?”

  
Dean patted the chair beside him, “Come on Rudolph, everything has everything they need. Take a seat.”

  
You rolled your eyes, but followed his order and made your way around to take your place beside him. He pulled the chair closer to him until he was able to wrap his arm around your shoulders. Mary smiled at the two of you as she took a sip from her coffee mug. 

  
“Okay, so how does this work?” Sam asked. 

  
“Well typically, everyone takes turns opening a gift and, since you asked, why don’t you go first,” you answered looking to your right at the youngest Winchester.

  
Over the next twenty minutes, the four of you took turns opening gifts and they were all flabbergasted by your generosity. Sam loved his new hiking boots and laughed that you had somehow managed to find out what kind of special shampoo and conditioner he used. He was also thrilled when he opened “_The Killer Book of Serial Killers_”.

  
“Hey, this is really cool!” he said, flipping through the pages. 

  
“Are you really feeding into his weird serial killer fetish?” Dean asked with a side glance. 

  
You shrugged your shoulders, “It’s what he likes, so I thought he’d enjoy the book.”

  
“Oh, I definitely will. Thanks (Y/N),” Sam added with a giant ear to ear smile. 

  
Mary was also touched by her brand new jacket that was covered with multiple pockets on the outside and even had a few hidden compartments on the inside. “Perfect for hunting,” she said. You had also managed to take an individual photo of each of her boys and framed it in a gold locket that she could wear along with John’s wedding ring. She had been so moved by the gesture, that she actually made you get up so she could give you a giant hug that you never wanted to end. 

  
Dean surprised you by drilling a hole in the bullet that the Secret Service agent had shot you with and turning it into a necklace. You immediately threw it over your head and thought it was ironic how it sat perfectly in between the two scars on your chest. You twirled the bullet in between your fingers for a few moments and blushed when he leaned in and whispered, “The perfect accessory for my warrior princess.” Sam and Dean had also managed to buy you a pretty decent used camera so you could take more pictures of them.

  
“While I’m not thrilled at the prospect of having my picture taken, it should at least be done with a good camera,” Sam explained. 

  
“Thanks guys, it’s great. You really didn’t have to get me anything though,” you replied. 

  
Finally, there was Dean. You had been so excited to give him his gifts and were thrilled when his eyes lit up as he opened his first box. At first, he was confused by the weight of it, but when he saw all the cans of ‘_Nerve Damage_’, his mouth dropped, “No way! I thought they stopped making this!”

  
You shrugged your shoulders, “EBay.”

  
He popped the top on one and took a long guzzle, “How did you know?”

  
“Really? Do you have to ask? Remember, I know all . . .” you said waving your hands around in the air like a magician. 

  
When he started to open his second gift, you started to doubt the gift, “Now, I know you don’t like a lot of change, but I just thought this would help to protect them and keep them organized.”

  
He pulled out a plastic case and lifted the top off to reveal the inside. It was lined with velvet and had multiple small, rectangular shaped pockets. Obviously, he was a little confused at first, “Uh, what is it exactly?”

  
“It’s a container so you can store all of your cassette tapes in it. I know you have that one old box or the glove compartment you keep them in, but, like I said, I though this would keep them from getting damaged and make it easier for you to find the one you want. If you don’t like it, it’s ok, you can keep using what you got,” you replied.

  
You played with your hands nervously as you watched him run his fingers gingerly along the inside, processing what you had said. Finally, he turned to you, “Wow, it’s perfect. It’s really, really thoughtful.”

  
You couldn’t contain your excitement, “Really? Are you sure?”

  
“Yeah, you big nerd. Thank you,” he said before giving you a tender kiss. 

  
Once Sam, Dean and Mary had opened all their gifts except for the mysterious red one, you instructed them to unwrap it all at the same time. Sam and Mary pulled off the paper tentatively, while Dean dove in, ripping it to shreds and tossing the paper to the floor. He was the first to reveal his gift, “Awesome!!!” He held up a black shirt that had the words “_I Killed Hitler_” printed across the front in white lettering and held it in front of his chest, “I am so putting this on.” Sure enough, he stripped off his dark green t-shirt and threw his new gift on within a matter of seconds. 

  
“Really, (Y/N)?” Sam said when he pulled his shirt out to reveal it said “_My Brother Killed Hitler_”.

  
Dean laughed, “Merry Christmas, Sam!”

  
“I don’t know where I can wear this, but it’s cute,” Mary chuckled as she threw her T-shirt around to show that it said “_My Son Killed Hitler_”. 

  
Dean grabbed your hand and pulled it up to his lips, “Babe, you are so awesome!”

  
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t you forget it,” you answered smugly. 

  
Mary and Sam announced they were going to take a bathroom break and get more coffee, respectively, leaving you two alone at the table. Dean puffed up his chest in pride while smoothing out his shirt. But suddenly, he looked confused, “But wait, where’s yours?”

  
“My what?”

  
“Well, you need a shirt.”

  
Nervously you asked, “And what exactly would my shirt say?”

  
You knew this would mean putting a label on the two of you. Dean cocked his head to the side as he suddenly realized this as well, “Well, um, what would you want it to say?”

  
“I don’t know. I mean, to use the term . . . ‘boyfriend’,” you said with trepidation, “just wouldn’t feel right.”

  
“Oh,” he said disappointingly. 

  
You grabbed his hands in yours and turned your chair so you were knee to knee with him, “No, that came out wrong. It’s just, Dean . . . I don’t know about you, but you feel like more than a boyfriend to me. That word isn’t good enough for you.”

  
“Oh,” he said, perking up a little bit.

  
“You’re just, Dean. _My_ Dean?” you asked hopefully. 

  
He smiled when he heard this, “Well then, get a shirt that says that.”

  
“What? ‘_My Dean Killed Hitler_’?”

  
“Yeah,” he said shrugging his shoulders as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

  
“Ok then, I will.”

  
“Now, come here and give your Dean another Christmas kiss,” he commanded as he wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled you into his lap. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
As a hunter, you never imagined having a Christmas like today, but now, you couldn’t fathom of never spending every holiday like this. Not only had she given everyone the most perfect gifts, but, along with everyone’s help, she had dished out another mouthwatering feast. You were pretty sure there were enough leftovers and pie to feed you for a whole week. Afterwards, she insisted on taking a family picture of you, Sam and your mother. After the moment was captured, you were just about to tell her to join you for anther snapshot, but it was your mother who spoke up first and insisted that you four take a “real family photo”.

  
Your mother decided to stay the night, so Sam got her set up in one of the many empty bedrooms while you and her retreated to bed, fairly early. She stopped by her room, saying she had to get something, but encouraged you to go ahead without her. A few minutes later, she came strolling in with two more gifts and sheepishly said, “So, I may have over shopped for you and I didn’t want to look silly or like I had you too much this morning.”

  
She sat the two gifts down on the bed in between you two. She breathed in deeply and pointed to the bigger of the two, “Ok, this one, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it, but I’m hoping you’ll like it.”

  
“(Y/N), you didn’t have to do all of this. It’s really too much,” you said, taken back by her giving nature. 

  
“I know, I know, but I just had so many good ideas and I ordered a lot of this stuff before I was mad at you, so you get it anyway. Now, just open the damn gift,” she ordered playfully. 

  
“Yes, ma’am,” you smirked. You pulled back the wrapping paper to reveal a large, black shadow box with three items. First, there was a picture of your favorite childhood wrestler, Gunnar Lawless. Below that and off to the left, was a white wrestling glove that had tassels hanging down and “_Gunnar_” printed across the knuckles in blue, shiny crystals. Beside that, was a letter of authenticity, certifying that the glove was in fact owned by the wrestler at one point. You briefly reminisced about the hunt that led you to meet Gunnar Lawless in person and the fun you had parading around the empty wrestling ring when you thought no one was watching. 

Your mouth dropped open in awe as you ran your hand along the edge of the frame, “How, how did you find this?”

  
“Ancient Chinese secret,” she chuckled. 

  
You continued to look at the glove, one of the most desired objects of your childhood, as she spoke nervously, “I know things ended kind of weird with him, but I remember how happy you said you were when you went to his matches and how it was one of the few good memories you have with your dad. Do . . . Do you like it?”

  
“_God, I love you._”

  
“I love it,” you said swallowing hard. 

  
Her eyes lit up as bright as the Christmas tree beside your bed, “Good! Ok, now this last one is more of a gag gift, but I was kind of embarrassed to give it to you in front of everyone else.”

  
You sat the shadow box down on the floor with care and slid it under your bed for the moment. You picked up the other box and couldn’t help but to let out a roaring laugh when you saw it was another shirt. This one was white and printed across the front in black letters was, ‘_I Love Posse_’.

  
“Flip it around,” she said, biting her lip. 

  
You did so, and continued laughing as you saw that she had printed ‘_Posse Magnet_’ on the reverse side of the shirt. You pulled off your current top to put the new one on, “Well, how do I look?” you asked wiggling your eyebrows. 

  
“It suits you,” she said, rubbing her hand along your chest. 

  
“You know, I actually have another gift for you too.”

  
“Really?” she asked slowly. 

  
“Mmmhmm, go take a look in the top drawer of my dresser,” you replied.

  
She stood up from the bed and made her way slowly over to open up the drawer as instructed and you couldn’t help but to follow her, entranced by the way her pajama pants hung loosely from her hips and the way her shirt was a little too short, exposing a sliver of flesh along her back whenever she moved. She pulled the drawer open and cocked her head to the side. 

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“Uh, Dean? It’s empty,” you said turning on your heels. However, you were caught off guard by two strong hands, suddenly on either side of your face, “I know. It’s for you.”

  
“Wha . . . I don’t understand?” you whispered, taken off guard by how suddenly he invaded your personal space. 

  
His breath was warm against your lips as he explained, “I want you to move some of your stuff in here with me.”

  
“_Did Dean fucking Winchester just ask you to move in with him? No, no he couldn’t possibly. . ._”

  
“Are you sure?” you asked with trepidation.

  
“More than anything,” he said before forcing your lips onto his for a long, lingering kiss. His hands ran down your sides and rested on your hips while you couldn’t help but to run your hands around his back and squeeze a handful of his glorious ass. He moaned into the kiss, allowing you to slip your tongue into his, taking him by surprise with your dominance. When he did pull out from the kiss, his breathing was rough and uneven. 

  
He brushed your hair behind your ears, “I do have one final present for you.”

  
“Oh yeah?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes. 

  
“Oh, yeah,” he replied huskily, turning you around and pushing you back until the back of your knees hit his bed, forcing you to sit. “Stay,” he commanded. 

You felt heat pool in between your legs as he made his way over to his bedside table. He fidgeted around for a few minutes, before pulling something out and tucking it behind his back. He walked slowly, but determinedly, as he made his way back to stand in front of you, “Lay down.”

  
You smiled with want and couldn’t help but to follow his commands, despite your nervousness. This was dominant Dean and he was not here to play games. You weren’t sure what was about to happen, but in this moment, you knew you would do whatever he asked. He stood there for several seconds, undressing you with his eyes as your breathing became shallow and quick as the anticipation built. When he finally made eye contact with you, his velvet voice uttered, “God, you are fucking beautiful, you know that?”

  
You bit your lip and blushed at his compliment before he used one leg to spread your knees apart so he could stand in between them. Finally, he pulled out a branch of mistletoe from behinds his back and placed it gently on top of your crotch, “Oops,” he said with absolutely no remorse in his tone. 

  
“Dean?” you asked anxiously. 

  
He gently fell forward, caging you in with his forearms. He started kissing you along your jawline, his beard ticking you sweetly as he moved down and around from one side to the next, “Now, princess, you’re not gonna break a sacred, Christmas tradition are you?”

  
You were unable to answer as your mind was focused on the pulsating throb in your pussy, on his hands that were gently tugging at the hem of your ‘_Oh, fudge_’ T-shirt and on his soft lips that were now making their way down your chest. He sat back on his knees, looking at your shirt for permission. You reached your hands up, over your head and nodded slowly. He ran his beautiful, thick tongue along the top row of his teeth and leisurely raised the article of clothing up and off of your body. 

  
He grabbed your hands and pulled you up, so you were sitting chest to chest with him and attacked your mouth, running his tongue along your lips. You felt the feather touch of his hands making their way up your back and soon, his fingers were undoing your bra with practiced ease. He slid the straps down your arms, allowing your bra to fall down between the two of you, before sweetly pressing you back down on the bed. 

  
For the first time, your upper body was completely exposed to him. He tossed your bra to the floor before lowering himself down to take one nipple into his mouth. His warm, wet tongue circled around your pink bud several times, before he took it in between his teeth and pulled gently. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you as he continued his pleasurable assault on your flesh. 

  
Meanwhile, his other hand had made it’s way over to the breast he wasn’t sucking on. He used his strong, calloused hands to massage you, occasionally taking your nipple in between his fingers to tweak it. 

  
You moaned, “Harder, Dean.” 

  
He smiled against your skin before pinching your nipple with more force, eliciting a cry of pleasure from you. 

  
“Is that what you want?” he asked. 

  
You ran your hands along his arms, “God, yes Dean.”

  
He started to switch his mouth to your other breast, but you stopped him, tugging at his shirt. “I wanna feel you too, Dean,” you practically begged. 

  
He smiled seductively as he reached behind his head and pulled his shirt off and dropped it slowly off the side of the bed. You closed your eyes and ran your hands up his chest, savoring the feel of his firm body and the little shivers he tried to hide as you made skin to skin contact with him. He let you enjoy yourself for several long, luxurious minutes, before he became impatient and returned to suck on your other breast. You dragged your nails lazily up and down his back, arousal continuing to dampen your panties. 

  
“I didn’t think Dean Winchester would be much into foreplay,” you mused aloud.

  
He looked up and rested his chin in on your chest, “I’ve waited a long time for this. I’m gonna enjoy myself and make sure you do too.” He lowered his head and began to kiss you across your stomach, licking the scar that now plagued your abdomen. He scooted back until he was standing again and grabbed the top of your pajama pants and panties. You lifted your hips off the bed and tugged them tantalizingly slow off your legs before letting them pool on the floor.

  
There you were, completely naked and soaking wet with desire in front of Dean, your Dean. You blushed, suddenly nervous at how overexposed you were. But he licked his lips and admired your body like he had just unwrapped the best gift you could ever give him. He lifted your left leg and started lightly kissing you at your ankle, making his way up your lower leg and inner thigh until his mouth was hovering over your core. You moaned in disappointment as you felt his hot breath pass you over the spot you wanted him to touch most to begin the process, only in reverse, on your right leg. 

  


  
You rand your hands up your side and groped your own breasts, “Dean, please.”

  
“Is that begging, I’m hearing?” he asked smugly. 

  
“No . . . Okay maybe just a little,” you relinquished as he smirked and laid across your body. 

  
“Open your mouth,” he commanded. When you obeyed, he dipped his tongue in at the time he slipped a finger past your folds and easily into your aching pussy. You moaned in surprised, but the sound was swallowed by him as he continued his double attack on you. He whispered against your lips, “Hmmmm, already so wet and ready for me, sweetheart.”

  
Your eyes were slammed shut, focused on the slow pumping of his finger, “Only for you Dean.”

  
He inserted a second finger, “Cause I’m your Dean?”

  
“God, yes!” you screamed out a little too loudly as his fingers started to move faster and faster.

  
“And you’re mine? My nerdy, badass princess?” he asked, ducking his hand down to taste your nipple once again. 

  
“Always,” you replied without hesitation. 

  
The weight of him on top of you prevented you from thrusting your hips up to meet his pumps, so you just had to take whatever he would give you. His thumb circled your clit, teasingly, but never making direct contact with that sweet bundle of nerves. You finally dared to open your eyes and were shocked to see his dazzling green eyes inches from your face, staring at you in awe. He crooked his fingers and you gasped as he rubbed a sweet spot that you didn’t even know existed. Your hands were a blurry mess as you tried to drink in every bit of Dean. You wanted to memorize every muscle’s movement and every beautiful scar on his perfect body while rubbing your hands through his feather, soft hair. 

  
A sheet of sweat had broken our across your body when he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them up to his mouth. He gazed directly at you and kept his eyes open as he sucked your juices off of his long, strong fingers, “Damn, you’re just as delicious as the first time.” He leaned in and whispered, “But now, I want a taste directly from the source.”

  
If you could have melted into a puddle right then and there, you would have. From deep in the recesses of your hazy mind, your sexy inner voice came to your rescue, “Well, what are you waiting for?” 

  
He bit his lips and gave you a quick kiss before scooting down to the end of the bed. He threw your legs over his shoulders and settled in at the apex of your thighs. You instinctively bucked up towards his face when you felt his breath at your entrance, but he had a hand firmly wrapped around each of your hips, stilling you from moving. 

  
If it hadn’t been Dean, you would’ve been embarrassed by his next move, but instead you were flattered when you felt him stick his nose to your folds and heard him inhale deeply, “Son of a bitch, you even smell delicious.”

  
You were enjoyed being cherished by this Adonis of a man, but Dear God, you just needed him to touch you again. “Dean, please,” you openly begged, reaching down to stroke his cheeks. 

  
He smirked and finally flattened his soft, wide tongue on your opening, running it along your sex until he reached your clit. You shuddered as he sucked on the sweet spot, occasionally flicking his tongue teasingly, sending little shockwaves through your body. You closed your eyes and threw your head back against the mattress, using one pillow to try and muffle the sounds of pleasure that inadvertently escaped your mouth. He continued his ministrations, paying close attention to your reactions, before reinserting two fingers into your pussy. 

  
“Oh, God. Fuck me!” you moaned, somehow between incoherent thoughts. 

  
He briefly popped his head back up, “Actually, it’s Dean. But, thanks for the compliment doll.”

  
You managed to drunkenly smile at his witty comeback, lost in the overwhelming sensations of the man between your legs. He dipped his head back down, continuing to nip and suck on you clit, causing you to grunt as you felt a tightening in your stomach. Dean must’ve sensed your impending orgasm, because he started pumping vigorously into you, lapping up all of your juices zealously. 

  
You clutched at his hair, trying not to pull too hard as your thighs started shaking due to the unyielding tightness inside of you beginning to stretch thinner and thinner with each lick, every kiss and thrust. Every nerve in your body was electrified by him. You bucked your hips up to meet him until one final nip with his teeth at your clit sent you spiraling over the edge. 

  
“Fuuuuuuuuuck, Dean!” your back arched high off the mattress, toes curling as you cried out in pleasure while your orgasm crescendoed. It may have started in between your legs, but it radiated outward, trembling your entire body. Dean backed off with his mouth, but slowly continued to drive his fingers in and out of you until you came back down from your little death. 

  
You looked down to Dean and saw you had been clenching him so hard that your knuckles were white. You quickly released him, but there was worry etched across his handsome features. He wiped his face with his forearm before crawling up your body, the touch of his bare chest sending little aftershocks of pleasure through you, “Hey, hey are you OK?”

  
You gave him a sloppy smile and patted his cheek, “Oh, Dean. I am fan-freaking-tastic thanks to this not so silent night.”

  
He reached up a hand and brushed your cheek, “I was just making sure. You’re crying,” he said, pulling back his hand to show you the fresh tears he had wiped away from your face. 

  
You reached up your hand to your other cheek and were shocked to see that he was right, “Well, if I did, they’re good tears.”

  
“Good, I’d hate to make a girl cry in bed for the wrong reason,” he winked. 

  
“It was the best Christmas gift ever,” you confirmed, pulling him in for a kiss and briefly tasting yourself on his lips. 

  
“Told you I love posse. Tonight was for you babe. But, maybe one day, I’ll get to be like Santa and come down the chimney,” he added, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. 

  
You pushed him up onto his knees and slid out from underneath of him to slip on your panties and his “_I Killed Hitler_” shirt, “Only if you’re a very good boy,” you replied, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. 

  
He pulled back the covers and rubbed your spot invitingly. You gladly crawled back up the bed and snuggled in next to Dean. 

  
“Even though that is one of my new favorite shirts, I gotta say, you look better in it that I do,” he said as he pulled you close to his chest. 

  
All of the exertion from the day’s activities were finally beginning to take a toll on you and suddenly, it was nearly impossible to keep your eyes open. Your turned your head and gave him a quick peck, “Merry Christmas, Dean.” You barely heard him whisper back, “Merry Christmas, princess,” before falling asleep. 

  
One day, Dean would let you know that as you fell asleep in his arms, this was the first time he allowed himself to admit something. For the briefest of moments, he acknowledged that not only were you his soulmate, but that he was falling in love with you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See!!! I told you there would be eventual smut! Just a LOT of fluff and story building up to it. There will be more . . . lots more as time goes on. But this was just a taste 😉.  
I had sooooo much fun writing and brainingstorming this chapter, especially coming up with ideas for the gifts. I am caught up on editing and need to write more new material, so it might be a little longer before my next update. Thanks for continued comments and kudos!


	29. And the Winner is . . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes you for a special surprise and you get to spend New Year’s Eve in the bunker with the Winchesters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so apologize for the delay! I hate going so long without an update, but between work, life and planning out the next chapters, it took me a little longer than expected. I just want to bring the best story to everyone that I can. This is a fluffy little chapter, but have no fear, we are quickly catching up to the main storyline!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You awoke the next morning, still protectively tucked under the arm of Dean Winchester. You felt his warm breath flow across your neck as he quietly snored behind you. You peeked over your shoulder and saw that he was still fast asleep. You felt safe and snug in his embrace, but unfortunately, nature was calling. You quietly managed to slip out of his grip, slide on your pajama pants and throw your hair into a messy bun before using the half bath in his room. 

  
You stood at the sink, washing your hands, and replayed the events from last night. “_It totally had to be a dream, right?_” The faint bruises on the flesh of your hips, your slightly swollen lips and the red marks along your collarbone and at the top of your breasts helped to convince you that your memories were not just a fantasy. You smiled stupidly at yourself, wondering how you were so lucky and tried to squash any negative thoughts that tried to burst your bubble. 

  
“_Is he like this with every woman? Does he make them feel like the most cherished object in the world, like they’re the only female he would ever want to touch, kiss or caress? Or is it just me?_”

  
You shook the doubts from your head and peeked out the bathroom door to see that Dean had rolled over on his other side and was sleeping soundly. You decided to make your way to the kitchen to fix banana and chocolate chip pancakes, with bacon of course, for everyone. You stretched your arms as you walked along the bunker’s hallways and couldn’t help but to notice that your right shoulder was significantly less painful than it had been yesterday. You did a few of your therapy exercises and were surprised to find you could stretch it further and for longer than just the day before. You looked down at the scars on either side of your new bullet necklace and, unless the lights were playing tricks on you, they seemed to be fading away. 

  
“_What the . . . . Nope! Not letting anything ruin this morning. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Not today, not today!_”

  
The relaxing tunes of Fleetwood Mac was your companion as you cooked another breakfast in the Men of Letters bunker. A sloppy smile was plastered across your face as you sipped on your coffee, flipped the pancakes and fried up enough bacon for a small army. Just as you were putting the dishes in the sink, Mary entered the kitchen. 

  
She took notice that you were wearing her son’s “_I Killed Hitler_” T-shirt and smiled suspiciously, “Well, you’re up awfully early.”

  
“_Shit, I didn’t even think to change! I am going to die of embarrassment!_”

  
You blushed, “Yeah, I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I thought I’d make breakfast.”

  
She scanned the food on the island, “Looks good. I think my boys are getting pretty spoiled on having someone cook for them all the time. Especially if it’s half as good as the cornucopia from last night.”

  
“Well, that was a team effort, but thanks. It’s one of the few things I can do to show them how thankful I am of everything else they do for me.”

  
Mary set about making her a plate and you offered to pour her a cup of coffee, “So are you going to be staying with us long?”

  
She sat down at the table, “Well, I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I got a call from a Mick Davies who said he was with the British Men of Letters on my way here. He wants to meet up with me tomorrow and discuss how a relationship between American hunters and them could be ‘mutually beneficial’.”

  
“Ahh, I see. So, he’s finally wanting to recruit you, huh?”

  
“Looks that way. I know you said we can’t trust them, but that I should join them for a while. Still, it makes me nervous,” she said before taking a bite of pancakes, “Mmm, this are really good hon.”

  
You smiled with pride, “Thanks Mary. I know it’s a risky move, but trust me, as soon as we get to the point where I know they’re going to flip on all of the hunters, we will pull you out. I promise I won’t let them hurt you. 

  
“Ok then, sounds good. Any tips for dealing with them?”

  
“Mick is a cool guy. You can trust him completely. He really wants to work with the Americans. Other than that, don’t believe anyone else, especially Arthur Ketch. He’s a sleaze ball so . . . keep your distance,” you replied while internally thinking, “_and please, for the love of God, don’t sleep with him._”

  
“Got it. Well, I’ll probably head out later today then to drive to the meeting spot,” she said while playing with her locket. She gripped it tightly, “Thanks so much for this, it’s so great to have a part of all my boys with me.”

  
“No problem. I’m glad you like it. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take mine and Dean’s breakfast up to his room. He’s not much of a morning person,” you giggled. 

  
“I’ll say bye before I leave,” Mary added as you left the kitchen and carried the tray of goodies towards Dean’s room. 

  
You stopped by your room to grab your new camera so you could hopefully catch a few snapshots of Dean sleeping. You closed your door and groaned internally, “_Geez, is everybody up this morning?_” you thought, when you spotted Sam standing firmly in the hall. 

  
He smiled teasingly, “Nice shirt. Looks like Dean finally got out of the doghouse. I just hope you kids used protection.”

  
You tried to push past him to Dean’s room, but his tall stature made it impossible, “Yeah, yeah Sasquatch. Now, get out of the way.”

  
“He must’ve been done something really good to deserve breakfast in bed,” he said, raising an eyebrow at the tray of food. 

  
You huffed, “Or maybe, I’m just a nice person. If you don’t quit making fun, you won’t get any of the extras that I left in the kitchen. Your mom is in there now eating.”

  
He chuckled, “Wait, our mother saw you?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Dressed . . . like that?”

  
“What, Sam? It’s not like I’m wearing pasties and a g-string,” you replied exhaling sharply. 

  
He mussed your hair and finally got out of your way, “Might as well be.”

  
“Scissors, Sam! I know where you sleep! I am not afraid to use them on your hair,” you called out after him. 

  
He turned around before going down the next hallway and mockingly replied, “Ooooh, I’m so scared.”

  
You rolled your eyes and finally opened the door to Dean’s room, but were surprised to see there was no one in the bed. You sat your camera and the tray down on his desk along with the syrup and whip cream you had brought for topping the pancakes off. You heard a floorboard creak behind you and you tried to turn to find the source of the noise, but you weren’t quite quick enough. In a flash Dean had you pinned down across his bed, his forearms caging you in.

  
“Haha! Spider caught a fly,” he taunted. 

  
“If I was really trapped, I could just do this,” you said as you raised your knee up to his crotch, “but I don’t really wanna hurt you.”

  
He kissed your nose, “Ouch, yeah don’t hurt the family jewels, princess.”

  
“So, you’re a spider huh? Does that mean you’re an eight legged freak?” you asked with a coy grin as you gripped his shoulders. 

  
“Nah, more like a ten inch hero, you know what I mean?” he replied, slightly grinding into your core for emphasis. 

  
You moaned at the contact, your body betraying you and showing him just how easily he could make you react. He leaned down and kissed you several times before you finally uttered out, “Dean, everyone else is awake in the house.”

  
He broke away, “What a way to kill the mood.”

  
“What if I said I had bacon for you,” you offered wiggling your eyebrows. 

  
He quickly popped up off of you, “Well hot damn, that’s a horse of a different color.”

  
He grabbed your right arm and tugged you up off the bed to your feet before his face turned turned to horror, “Oh shit! I’m sorry! I totally forgot that you’re still healing. Are you hurt?”

  
He started rubbing your shoulder and you rotated it several times in its socket, “Actually, I’m good. It’s weird, I noticed it felt a little better than yesterday. And look,” you said pointing to your scars, “Is it just me or do these look like they’ve faded a little bit?”

  
His face went from concern to puzzled as he examined you, “Yeah it does. That’s . . .”

  
“Weird, I know,” you said finishing his sentence. 

  
He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Oh well, if it ain’t broke . . .”

  
You lightly smacked his chest, “That’s what I said! Unless Cas gives me something to worry about, I’m not paying it any attention.”

  
He tucked your hair behind your right ear, “So, what’s for breakfast?”

  
“Well, bacon, duh! And I paired it with banana and chocolate chip pancakes. I also have whip cream and syrup.”

  
“For the pancakes or . . . ,” he said wiggling his eyebrows. 

  
You licked your lips, “Or . . . ?”

  
“There’s a lot of things I could do with some whip cream,” he whispered as he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. 

  
“Well, when we have some real alone time, you’ll have to show me,” you winked. 

  
“Really?” he asked with curiosity. 

  
You pushed around him and started to put some whip cream on your pancakes. You placed a small dollop on your finger and looked to him, “Or . . . Maybe I’ll have to show you.” You slowly inserted the digit into your mouth, closed your eyes and hollowed your cheeks. You pulled your finger out of your mouth with a loud *_pop_* and opened your eyes. 

  
Dean was glued to the spot, his pupils were widened and his mouth slightly parted, “Yeah, you’re gonna have to show me that.”

  
“Oh I will, and so much more,” you teased before grabbing your plate and cup of coffee and going around the bed to sit against the headboard. 

  
He practically growled before quickly joining you with his own breakfast, “Damn sweetheart.”

  
“What?” your voice muffled by a mouthful of bacon. 

  
“I just have a feeling you’re going to ruin me for any other woman,” he said as he moaned around his fork when he took his first bite of pancakes. 

  
“Well, I certainly hope so, since you’re my Dean,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him on his scruffy cheek. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“Well, give a girl a good orgasm and you get breakfast in bed,” you chuckled as you sat your empty plate on the bedside table. 

  
She tucked her tongue in her cheek, blushing and just stared at you, looking for a witty comeback. You let several seconds pass, “What, cat got your tongue?”

  
“You are . . . I . . . that’s not why . . .” she stammered, shaking her head. 

  
“You are so cute when you blush. Not ten minutes ago you’re licking whip cream off your damn finger like a porn star and I say the word ‘orgasm’ and you’re blushing like a virgin bride?”

  
She crossed her arms and huffed, “Fine, see if I make you breakfast again.”

  
You pulled her into your arms until the two of you were laying down on the bed, “Aww, come on nerd. Don’t be like that. It’s endearing how you go from one extreme to the other.”

  
“Mmmmhmmm,” she said as she gently elbowed you in the ribs. 

  
“Besides, you don’t have to make me breakfast all the time. You did a lot yesterday and you could’ve taken the day off.”

  
She finally turned to look at you, “I know, but I also know how much you and everyone enjoys it. Plus, I like cooking and how much you enjoy eating my food.”

  
“Hmmm, I like eating anything you make,” you teased as you leaned in for a kiss. 

  
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door before it was unceremoniously shoved open. Sam called out, “Everybody put their pants on!”

  
“Sam! What the hell?” you yelled back angrily. 

  
He laughed heartily, “Good, you’re both dressed.”

  
She threw a pillow at him, “And what if we hadn’t been? You looking for a free show Sam?!”

  
He dodged her attack, “Hey, not my fault if you two are going at it when there’s other people in the bunker.”

  
You ran a hand down your face, “What do you want, Sammy?”

  
He leaned on the door, “Mom is getting ready to leave and she wanted to say goodbye to you two.”

  
You nodded, “All right, give us five and we’ll be right down.”

  
Sam sucked his teeth, “Five minutes? Poor (Y/N) if that’s all the time you need.”

  
She started to get up from the bed, “Sam, get out now!” 

  
Luckily for your brother, he closed the door behind him just as she got to the end of the bed. She turned around to face you, “Can I shoot him? Not fatally, but maybe just wing him a little?”

  
You chuckled, “Sure, but let’s make sure our mom is gone so there are no witnesses.”

  
“Deal!”

  
Your mother filled you and Sam in on her plans to meet with Mick Davies and you urged her to call if she needed anything. After your mother gave hugs and salutations to the three of you, she urged you all to be careful before grabbing her bags and heading out of the bunker. 

  
Once your mother was gone, you tapped your girl on the shoulder, “Hey, go get dressed. I’m taking you somewhere.”

  
“Really? Where?” she asked hesitantly. 

  
You slapped her on the ass, causing her to jump in surprise, as you headed off to change, “Now, if I told you that, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Meet me at Baby in ten.”

  
She managed to beat you to the garage and was already leaned up against the driver’s door sporting some jeans and a black and white checkered flannel over a plain tank top, “You’re kind of bossy, you know that?”

  
You grabbed her chin and gave her a chaste kiss, “Yeah, but you listened. Good girl.”

  
She hummed in approval, “So, can you tell me where we’re going now?”

  
“Nope. Get that sweet ass in the Impala and you’ll find out though.”

  
She smirked and grabbed your chin before gently shaking your face back and forth, “Dean, you think you’re charming, but you’re about as smooth as sandpaper.”

  
“That’s not what you thought last night,” you teased, pushing your chest into hers. 

  
You saw her swallow before replying, “I blame my weakness on the magic of Christmas.”

  
“Yeah, okay,” you said mockingly before reaching around and opening the door for her to slide in. You stared at her as she got in, reveling in the playfulness of the repartee between the two of you. Sure, there had been other one night stands that could keep it going for twelve hours, but somehow, even after six weeks, she almost always had a witty comeback for you. 

  
You started up the Impala and soon were on your way to the secret location. She pushed in the Queen cassette that you had stuck in the deck. She scooted over and sat leg to leg with you and the two of you belted out “_Bohemian Rhapsody_” as loud as you could. Ever since utterly embarrassing yourself by singing on the way back from Missouri with her, you were slightly more comfortable with making a spectacle of yourself, as long as it was just you and her in the car. Just as she finished stomping along to “_We Will Rock You_”, you pulled into your destination. 

  
She looked over at you, “Really? You’re finally gonna let me do this?”

  
You turned off the ignition, “Yep. Since you’re, hopefully, gonna be with me for the foreseeable future, it’s time to get you tatted up.”

  
She stared up at the glowing neon sign that said ‘_Ink Therapy_’ and smiled “Well, let’s go ink up this virgin skin. Will you hold my hand? It is my first tattoo after all,” she asked innocently as she bashed her eyelashes at you. 

  
You grabbed her by the neck and pulled her in for a searing kiss, “Babe, I’ll hold anything you want.”

  
Ninety minutes later she was successfully warded from demon possession, opting to get the symbol on her right shoulder. She was a trooper throughout the process and only really squeezed your hand as the tattoo artist finished up the shading. She excitedly bounced back to the car, trying to peek over her shoulder.

  
“Well, how does it look?” she asked for the umpteenth time. 

  
“Looks like it says ‘keep out’,” you replied, smiling at her enthusiasm. 

“Sorry, I know I keep asking. It’s just so pretty. I love it.”

  
You went to open the door for her, but rolled your eyes first, “Such a girly girl.”

  
She playfully smacked your chest, “Caveman.”

  
You smiled, inching closer to her face, “Nerd!”

  
“Idjit!”

  
You lips were a whisper away from hers, “Mine.”

  
She ran her hands around your neck, “Yours.”

  
You pushed her against the car as your lips hungrily sought out hers. She nipped ravenously at your mouth until you finally allowed her to slide her beautiful pink tongue along yours. She carded her fingers through your hair and moaned as you massaged her tongue with yours. You ran your hands down her side until they settled on her waist. When the two of you were connected physically, your soul felt whole. You were completely relaxed in her arms, yet all of your senses were heightened. 

  
When the two of you finally come up for air, her cheeks were flushed pink. She caught her breath and stroked your cheek before asking, “Mine?”

  
“All yours, sweetheart,” you replied before laying another assault on her mouth. 

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
Dean was talking into the drive-thru speaker, ordering some burgers and fries for the two of you and a salad for ‘Mr. Healthnut’ while you were floating thousands of feet in the air on cloud nine. Not only had you gotten a tattoo that you had dreamed about getting for years, but it had been with Dean’s blessing. It made you feel like he really had long term plans with you. Suddenly, you felt a slap on the thigh, causing you to yelp, “Hey!”

  
“Babe, what do you want to drink?” he asked pointing to the fast food speaker. 

  
“Oh . . . uh, chocolate shake?”

  
He nodded his head and turned back to complete the order, “And two chocolate shakes.”

  
A few minutes later, you were sipping on your milkshake in the front seat of the Impala, thinking about everything that was to come. Soon enough, you would be meshing back in with the original timeline and things would get much busier. Since this was going to be your life, you wanted to try and fully immerse yourself as much as possible. 

  
“Hey Dean, I need a favor.”

  
“Hmmm, well let me hear it first, then I’ll decide if I want to help you or not,” he replied teasingly.

  
“Can I have Jody’s number?”

  
He gave you the side eye, “Did you just ask me for another chick’s phone number? You dumping me?”

  
“Ha ha Dean. No, it’s just that when I left after our fight, I realized that I don’t really know anyone else here except for you, Sam and Mary. I was never really social back in my old life, but I would like to maybe have at least a couple of friends here to talk to or at least get to know the important people in your life a little bit better.”

  
“And you wanna start with Jody?”

  
“Yeah, she’s . . . Well she’s a badass and super chill. She seems like a great person. Plus, if you act up again, at least maybe I’ll have a safe place to run to,” you said with a wink. 

  
“Oh, look who the comedian is now,” he replied. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and your heart fluttered when you noticed that he still had yet to change his screensaver. He scrolled through his contacts and found the sheriff’s number before handing the phone over to you, “Here’s her number. Do with it what you please.”

  
You quickly programmed her number into your phone, vowing to send her a text later that evening. The rest of the day passed by mostly uneventfully. Castiel stopped by to check in and once again looked saddened by your appearance. He had no news of Kelly’s whereabouts and neither did the Winchesters. He vowed to search for a few more days and then return to the bunker to see if everyone working together would produce better results. 

  
That evening, while Dean was taking a shower, you finally built up the courage to text the sheriff of Sioux Falls, “_Hey Jody, I hope this isn’t too weird, but it’s (Y/N). I was in Canada with Sam and Dean? Anyway, it looks like I’m sticking around for a while and I’d love to get to know you better. Maybe we can chat sometime?_”

  
You hit send and immediately felt like the biggest fan girl stalker. The more time that passed by without a response, the more foolish you felt. Just as you were about to put your phone down, it started to ring and “_Jody Mills_” flashed across the screen. 

  
“_Oh God. Oh God. Oh God, she’s calling. What do I do?_”

  
“_Answer you idiot!_”

  
You accepted the call and put the phone up to your ear, “Hello?”

  
“(Y/N)? It’s sheriff Jody Mills. Is now a good time to talk?”

  
“Sure, yeah!” you said with a higher pitched voice than normal. “_For God’s sake girl, don’t be so desperate. Calm down!_”

  
“Ooook. Well, I got your message and I thought it’d be easier to talk rather than text.”

  
“Sure! I appreciate you taking the time to call me.”

  
“Well, I’ve actually been quite curious about you too.”

  
“Really?”

  
“Yeah. First, I’m not really buying the whole psychic story, but if that’s what the boys and you think is best for now, fine. But, I’m really interested in what’s going on with you and Dean,” she said bluntly. 

  
You always knew Jody was a ‘no nonsense’ kind of woman, which made you love her. But now, dealing with her domineering tone, it was slightly frightening. 

  
“Me and Dean?” you asked innocently. 

  
“Yeah. He not only brought you with him on a hunt and couldn’t keep his eyes off of you the entire time, but now you’re sticking around? What’s the story?”

  
You and Dean had considered the possibility that Jody would want answers about you and he agreed that she would be trustworthy enough to let in on your true identity. Therefore, after taking a deep breath, you went into a long monologue about your past, how you came to be in the Winchesters life, Castiel’s admission that you were supposed to be there and how he wouldn’t give any more details other than that. 

  
After you finished Jody asked, “And, what about you and Dean? You conveniently left that part out.”

  
“Well, Dean and I . . . We, um . . . We’re . . . Together I guess you could say.”

  
“Together?” she asked curiously. 

  
You stammered, “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know if you’d exactly call it dating, but we, uh . . . “

  
Jody started laughing, “I get it. No labels for the two of you. I’m sure Dean appreciates that. So, a nurse who magically drops into the Winchesters lap with information about the future and you somehow end up on the good side of the one with a hundred story emotional brick wall? You must be awfully special.”

  
You blushed, “Oh, I don’t know about that. Wait. You believe me? Just like that? No questions or hesitation?”

  
“Kid, if you’ve really been watching us, you should know we deal with crazy stuff everyday. I saw just how much Dean and Sam trusted you in Canada and you did save Asa’s life, so why shouldn’t I believe you?”

  
“Thanks Jody. Gosh, you don’t know how much that means to me,” you said with relief. 

  
“Well, any friend of the Winchesters is a friend of mine. So, why exactly did you want to talk to me?”

  
“_Ok, try not to fan girl. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out!_”

  
“Well, since it seems I am staying here, I realized I don’t really know anyone except a handful of people. I’ve always really admired you and I know how close you are to the boys, so I was hoping to maybe have someone else to talk to?”

  
“I see now. Too much testosterone down in Kansas for you?”

  
You chuckled, “Just a little. I mean, they’re good ol’ boys and I love them but sometimes you need . . .”

  
“A girl to talk to. I understand,” Jody said, finishing your sentence. 

  
“I don’t want to be clingy or make you feel weird so if you’d rather just forget the whole thing . . .”

  
Jody cut you off, “Nonsense! It must be a very difficult situation, having been plucked from your life into our world of monsters. I’d be more than happy to have another friend. Besides, then you can keep me updated on those brothers. I don’t hear from them nearly often enough.”

  
“Sounds good,” you replied, beaming ear to ear, “So, how are Alex and Claire doing?”

Jody went on to fill you in on the girls and after another ten minutes of talking, Dean finally returned from his shower. His gray sweatpants hung low on his hips and a black t-shirt clung to his wet torso. A few stray beads of water fell from his hair, running down along his now clean shaven face. He saw that you were on the phone, but that didn’t deter him from making his way over to the bed to lay beside you. You were not thrilled at the possibility of him pulling lewd sounds from you as you spoke to Jody. However, you were caught off guard when he suddenly started to tickle your sides. 

  
You laughed heartily, “Dean! Stop tickling me! I am on the phone!”

  
He looked ten years younger as a mischievous smirk spread across his face, “Well go on, I’m not stopping you!”

  
Jody was calling out to you from your phone, but you couldn’t catch your breath to answer. Finally, she ordered you to put her on speaker phone. 

  
Jody’s voice came booming from the phone, “Dean Winchester! Leave that poor girl alone! She and I were having a nice conversation.”

  
Dean replied, “Don’t let her fool you Jody, she loves it!”

  
“Jody,” you called out, gasping for air, “I’ll talk to you later!”

  
“Good luck, (Y/N),” Jody replied before hanging up. 

  
Dean continued his playful assault until you could feel the heat from your blushing cheeks. He finally relented, but pinned you down to the bed. You were so concentrated on taking in delicious, gulps of fresh air that you didn’t even try to fight back. Once you caught your breath, he leaned down and gave you a small kiss before saying, “Hi.”

  
“You are an asshole,” you replied smiling. 

  
He smiled smugly, “Nah, I’m adorable.”

  
“Do you always physically attack someone when they’re trying to have a conversation with a potential new friend?”

  
He tilted his head, pretending to think, “Nah, only when it’s you.”

  
“Well, I’m flattered,” you responded sarcastically. 

  
Dean finally rolled over and sat up, allowing you to do the same before gently pushing you forward to examine your tattoo, “Need me to put the cream on it?”

  
You chuckled to yourself and nodded your head. As he helped to medicate your new, own personal demon warding, you couldn’t help but to say, “You’re a damn sour patch kid, you know that? First you’re sour, then you’re sweet.”

  
“Hey, gotta keep you on your toes,” he whispered before placing a soft kiss on your neck. 

  
“Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem,” you replied, leaning into his touch.

  
After he helped apply the cream to your tattoo, the two of you decided to settle in and watch a movie before going to bed. He pulled out his laptop and was surprised when you didn’t complain that he wanted to watch “_Rudy_”. You snuggled in tightly and just before the movie ended, you fell asleep in Dean Winchester’s arms. 

  
The next few days were pretty low-key and void of action. You brought in some of your clothing to Dean’s room and even placed the checkered blanket that Dean had bought you in the hospital at the foot of his bed. Castiel stopped by again and everyone was perplexed that he had yet to find any trace of Kelly Kline. 

  
“_Hopefully this means Dagon has her and is protecting her,_” you thought to yourself. 

  
Before you knew it, it was New Year’s Eve. Unfortunately, Mary was on a mission with the Men of Letters and wanted to maintain the ruse that she hadn’t told you or her sons that she was hunting with them. She did call and speak to each of you for several minutes. Dean was nice enough to bring a TV into the library so you all could watch one of the NYE celebrations, but he also had other plans to keep you entertained. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
As Sam dealt out the next round of cards, you couldn’t help but to flick your eyes judgingly between her and the cup of orange liquid she was sipping on across the war room table from you. 

  
She caught you staring, “What? What is it Dean?”

  
“I just . . . Orange juice and rum? That’s your drink of choice for tonight?”

  
“Well, A, it’s delicious and two, I wanted something different to drink and rum just has that ‘celebratory’ feeling to it, don’t you think?”

You gave her a serious face, “No, no it doesn’t,” you replied sternly before giving her a quick little wink. 

  
Sam put down the first three cards for the next hand of Texas Hold’Em, “Maybe she thinks she’s a pirate tonight. She’s got the rum, the orange juice to prevent scurvy and she’s gambling with us.”

  
She took another drink, “If you count betting with pretzels and candy as gambling.”

  
You poured yourself another glass of whiskey and wiggled your eyebrows, “Well doll, if you’re a pirate, I’m going treasure hunting for some booty.”

  
Sam groaned and she giggled, “Eh, I’ll probably just make you walk the plank.”

  
Sam upped his bet and placed the fourth card down on the table, “Hey (Y/N), you know what a pirate’s favorite letter is don’t you?”

  
She rolled her eyes before upping the bet, “Geez Sam, really? Everyone know it’s ‘R’.”

  
You checked and Sam placed the final card before answering, “Nope, it’s the ‘C’. Yeah? Ha ha?”

  
You and her just looked at one another and shook your heads. She checked to you, “I think Sam is a little drunk, Dean.”

  
You checked, “Nope, that’s just him. See what I have to put up with?”

  
Sam finished off his own glass of whiskey, “Hey, that was a good one. Not my fault if you can’t appreciate this comedic genius,” he said as he dramatically brushed back his hair. 

  
“Riiiiiiiiiiiight,” she retorted before increasing her bet. 

  
“Hmmm, think you got something there, princess?” you asked before matching her bet. 

  
Sam folded and she increased her bet again, “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. You gonna find out?”

  
You called her bet, “Yep, I call. Sorry sweetheart, but I got two pair.”

  
“Too bad that doesn’t beat my three of a kind,” she replied, flipping over pocket Kings. 

  
Sam laughed and clapped her hands as you stared in disbelief that she had actually beat you. However, there was also a large part of you that was immensely proud at her calm demeanor as she had slowly increased the bet and won a huge pot. You nodded your head in appreciation towards her, “Well, keep this up and we might just make a hustler out of you yet.”

  
A huge grin spread across her face, “You mean a diva?”

  
“What?” you asked in confusion. 

  
Her cheeks flushed and she started dancing in her chair a little bit, “You know, that Beyoncé song? ‘_A diva is a female version of a hustla, of a hustla . . . of a . . . hustla_?” She looked between you and Sam, “No? No, I guess you wouldn’t know that.”

  
You smiled affectionately toward her and coughed, “Nerd,” under your breath, but loud enough for her to hear. 

  
“Beyoncé is a a fabulous artist, don’t be hatin’ Dean,” she chastised as she started to deal the next round. 

  
“Yeah, besides that nerd or diva or whatever she wants to be called just took half of your money,” Sam added. 

  
You held up the bag of pretzels that was in the chair next to you and poured some more into your pile, “Good thing I got some reserves in the bank then!”

  
“Cheater!” She and Sam both yelled. 

  
The next few hours passed like this and she was getting pretty good at the game, despite her protests that she didn’t play much poker before tonight. It was a few minutes before midnight and she and Sam were completely drunk. You were by no means sober, but you weren’t nearly as far gone as they were. The game was long forgotten and everyone was just waiting for the ball to drop. Sam had abandoned his glass and was taking shots straight from the bottle of whiskey and she had made her way over to sit sideways in your lap on your chair. 

  
Her cheeks were flushed red and she was fanning herself with the Disney shirt she was wearing, “It’s hot in here.”

  
You had one arm wrapped around her lower back and one draped across her legs to keep her from falling to the floor, “I’m pretty sure that it’s not too hot. I think it’s because you’ve finished off your pitcher of rum.”

  
She bit her lip and smiled seductively as she placed one hand on your shoulder and raised the other up to rake her fingernails through your hair, “Or maybe it’s because I’m near you.”

  
“Oh yeah?”

  
Instead of answering, she just nodded and leaned in closer until her lips were almost brushing against yours. In the background, you became aware that Sam and the announcer on the TV were counting down to the new year. 

  
_TEN_

_NINE_

_EIGHT_

  
You brought your hand up to grab a handful of hair, “So, am I gonna get a kiss at midnight,” you whispered. 

  
_SEVEN_

_SIX_

_FIVE_

  
She licked her lips and you were so close that you could feel her graze your mouth as well, “Maybe if you’re lucky.”

  
_FOUR_

_THREE_

_TWO_

_ONE_

  
“Come here, princess,” you ordered before inching forward and crashing her lips onto yours as Sam welcomed the new year with his bottle of Jack Daniel’s. She scooted closer into your lap and ran her hands through your hair. Her drink of choice for the night made her taste even sweeter than normal and emboldened her to take control of the kiss. She forcefully massaged your tongue for several seconds before flicking it against the back of your teeth and pulling away to stare into your eyes. 

  
You gave her another quick kiss, “Happy new year, babe.”

“Happy new year, Dean,” she replied before attacking your mouth again. 

  
After a few moments, you had to break away to catch your breath, “Someone gets flirty when they’re drunk.”

  
Her eyes were slightly unfocused as she smiled and replied, “Only for you, Dean.”

  
Sam started to make mocking vomiting noises from behind her, “Geez, get a room you two.”

  
She quickly whipped around her head, “Aww someone feeling left out?”. She quickly popped up out of your lap and slightly stumbled, but you grabbed her waist and helped to steady her. She thanked you and continued speaking to Sam, “Does Sam need a little hug to welcome the new year?”

  
He took another swig from his bottle and feigned a disgusted look, “Not if it’s from someone like you!”

  
She immediately took off running towards Sam. Luckily, he had sat down his bottle, so his hands were free as she jumped into his arms to embrace him. However, since he was also inebriated, he was not able to adjust his balance quickly enough and they both went tumbling to the floor, out of your eyesight. You heard a loud *_thump_* as she landed on the floor with all of your brother’s weight on top of her. 

  
“_These two, I swear . . ._”

  
You immediately leapt up out of your chair and ran over to them. However, Sam had already rolled to his side and they were both clutching their stomachs, eyes closed, laughing hysterically. 

  
You chuckled, “Well, I guess you both are fine then. Here, let me help you up.” You reached down for her arm, but she caught you off guard when she pulled you down to the floor to her other side.

  
Sam and her started howling with laughter and tears rolled down their cheeks. She rubbed your cheek, “I’m . . . I’m sorry Dean,” she apologized, trying to breathe in between cackling, “I just couldn’t resist.”

  
You couldn’t help but to be infected by their joy and soon you were laughing as hard as they were. After a few minutes, you all had settled down and were laying on your backs. Sam was the first to break the silence, “Well, I have to pee and then I think I’m going to bed.” He started to struggle to pull himself from the floor, but finally managed to make it to his feet, “Night guys.”

  
“Sam, drink some water before bed!” she ordered. 

  
“Yeah yeah, mom,” he called out before stumbling around the corner and out of sight.

  
You turned to her, “Water? You know that doesn’t work, right?”

  
She slapped your chest and looked at you indignantly, “Uh huh! Did you know that when you’re hungover, it’s because you’re actually dehydrated?”

  
“Is that so?” you answered sarcastically. 

  
“Yeah, smartass. So if you drink some water before going to bed after a night of drinking, you’re less likely to feel like shit when you wake up.”

  
“You’re such a fucking nerd,” you chuckled. 

  
“Hey! That is some jeopardy level knowledge that also has practical use.”

  
“Still . . . . Nerd!”

  
She rolled until she was sprawled across your chest, “Yeah, well you’re the dork that likes to kiss this nerd.” 

  
You ran a hand down her back and gently squeezed her ass, “You got me there.”

  
Suddenly your stomach grumbled and caught her attention, “Aww are you hungry? Come on, let’s go fix something to eat before we go to bed.” She pushed up off of you to stand and, once she was steady on her feet, reached down to help you up.

  
“Really? You wanna cook now?” you asked taking her hand.

  
“Uh yeah, drunk cooking is the best. It always tastes good!”

  
Twenty minutes later, she was finishing up the grilled cheese sandwiches as you sat on the stainless steel island and hummed along to ‘ZZ Top’ in the background. She had insisted that you take it easy while she cooked. You watched, hypnotized as she effortlessly danced around the kitchen while she prepared a midnight snack for the two of you. Finally, she turned off the stove and brought over two plates, opting to stand in between your knees and eat while you remained seated. You thanked her for the food and the two of you ate in silence for a few minutes, but maintained eye contact, playfully smacking each other or giving one another a quick kiss. 

  
After she finished her sandwich, she asked a question, slightly slurring her words, “So Mr. Dean Winchesterrrr, you gonna put the moooooos on me ta-night?”

  
“The moooos? What, are you a cow now?”

  
“Shut it idjit, you know what I mean,” she replied as she ran her hand up and down your thigh. 

  
The blood started to rush down your body and your pants were suddenly a little tighter. You deepened your voice, “Why, do you want me to?”

  
“I’d like to see your moves. The moves you put on other girls. I wanna see if you think you’re as slick as you think you are,” she giggled. 

  
“Hey, whatever moves I had worked on you, didn’t they?” you countered. 

  
She sat her plate down and wrapped her arms around your middle, “Yeah, but you didn’t really have to work that hard for me.”

  
You rubbed her shoulders and she closed her eyes as you gently massaged her, “Well, I want you nice and sober for what I have planned.”

  
She gave a small smile but kept her eyes closed, “I don’t know, I might have to be a little buzzed for that.”

  
You decided to mess with her a little bit since she was obviously oversharing and you were curious to get a peak inside her thoughts, “Oh yeah. Why’s that?”

  
She opened her eyes and stared seriously at you, “Because, my god you are a gorgeous man.”

  
“Really?” you smirked. 

  
“Oh my Chuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this. But yes, you are. I still can’t believe I’m here with you, touching you, kissing you and flirting with you. Don’t let this give you too big of an ego, but Dean, you are the most insanely, sinfully hot man I have ever seen. Your gorgeous eyes mesmerize me, your little bowlegged strut is adorable and your smile,” she let out an appreciative sigh, “damn, that smile. Not that fake ass smile, but when you’re really happy and those beautiful little crinkles fold up in the corner of your eyes, it just makes me melt.” She looked down, embarrassed by her words, “Shit . . . Nope, forget I said all of that. I’m just gonna go die in a corner now.”

  
You gripped her chin and made her look at you again, “Babe, it’s just a face.”

  
She reached up a hand and stroked your cheek, “I know, but despite your macho façade, underneath you are the most caring, loyal, sweet man I’ve ever known. You think you’re just a mindless solider, but you are a fierce warrior and sometimes, it’s hard to believe that someone like that would even think to give me the time of day. I mean, who am I to compete with so many other women that would love to be here with you.” 

  
You were stunned by her words and she took advantage of that to turn and start to put the dishes in the sink and clean up the mess in the kitchen, “I’m sorry, I’m just drunk. Please forget that I just made a huge fool of myself and let’s go back to taunting, flirting and pretending to be mean to one another, ‘Kay?”

  
Once you gathered your thoughts, you hopped off the island and pressed her up against the sink, “Hey, we can continue to taunt one another, because it’s my favorite part of the day. But, I’m not going to forget what you said. And you, you’re gonna remember what I’m about to say, got that?”

  
She nodded her head in understanding and you continued to speak, “You’re a witty, thoughtful, sassy badass who’s stubbornness drives me up the wall, but I wouldn’t change it. Your freckles are so damn adorable and when you laugh, it’s the most beautiful sound in the world. So, don’t worry about competing, because you already won. So, if you’re truly that nervous, we’ll continue to go as slow as you want. Promise,” you finished with a wink. 

  
She gave a shy smile, “You’re not supposed to do these chick flick moments.”

  
“_Yeah, I’m pretty shocked I just said all of that too._”

  
You shrugged, “You caught me in a weak moment. I had a fun night, drank some whiskey and a feisty vixen just fed me.” You leaned down and gave her a sweet and tender kiss and felt her melt into your body. You lips moved softly against hers and you felt her relax in your arms. 

  
When you broke the kiss, you gently reached around and smacked her on the ass, “All right woman, let’s get to bed.”

  
She giggled, “Ahhh, there’s my Neanderthal. I was hoping you didn’t get scared off by the emotional gushing that just took place.”

  
You smacked her again, “Never.”

  
She took you by the hand and the two of you sauntered back to your bedroom. She opted to just take off her pants and bra and sleep in her shirt while you changed into pajama pants and quickly joined her. You cuddled up to one another and said goodnight. As her breathing evened out, indicating she was fast asleep, you couldn’t help but to deeply breathe in her familiar scent and think, “_Yep, I’m a goner._”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always welcome and GREATLY appreciated! The next chapter is going to focus on a hunt from the canon, so be prepared! 😘 😘


	30. Avenging May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Lily Sunder shows up or revenge? Can you possibly save any of the angels or will everything go down as it did originally?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! Chapter 30! I never thought it would be this long, but here we are and there is no end in sight!  
Thanks to everyone that continues to leave kudos and especially comments, they mean the world to me! I hope you enjoy this quick little chapter that may leave you with more questions than answers about our Reader. Enjoy . . .

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
It was several days into the new year and thankfully, Dean did not tease you about or bring up your emotional word vomit from New Year’s Eve. The rum really got away from you and you had not meant to pour out your deepest and darkest feelings to him, but the whole situation was still such a dream to you. It had been comforting to hear him reassure you about his feelings and you vowed to try and not be so insecure about your position with the man of your dreams. 

  
You and the Winchesters were sitting in the kitchen, eating a simple breakfast of cereal and coffee when Dean spoke up from his seat beside you, “So babe, it’s been a few weeks since you knew what was going on. Any idea what’s coming up next.”

  
You took a swig of coffee and thought, “_That’s right. It’s been about six weeks since Kelly went missing and we should be getting back into the timeline that I know._”

  
You nodded your head, “Actually yeah. Oh crap. Cas! Castiel, can you hear me? I need to talk to you.”

  
Since you were calling out to him, it didn’t surprise you as much when Castiel magically appeared in the chair next to Sam

  
Sam jumped but kept his cool, “Well, good morning Cas.”

  
Cas gave you a quick smile, “I heard you call, (Y/N). Is something wrong?”

  
“Yes. No. Yes. Well technically, no. I mean, I’m okay, but something is wrong. Not with me or us. But yes, something is going on,” you said nervously. 

  
Dean patted your leg under the table, “Hey, just spit it out and we’ll deal with whatever it is.”

You took a deep breath, “Cas, can you remember the last time you spoke with Benjamin or anyone from your old garrison?”

  
All three of your table mates gave you a quizzical look, but Castiel answered, “No. I haven’t spoken to them in quite some time.”

  
“So you haven’t heard from them?” you asked, hoping you weren’t too late to save his former friends. 

  
Castiel shook his head, “Should I have heard from them?”

  
“You will, or maybe you won’t if I can stop it. Look, you need to reach out to Benjamin and Mirabel right away. Ishim has to pay for what he did all those years ago.”

  
“(Y/N), what are you talking about?” Castiel asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

  
Sam and Dean had both stopped eating, too enraptured by the conversation between you and Castiel. You took a few seconds to decide how you wanted to word your next statement and were comforted when Dean gently rubbed the small of your back, “Cas, I know how fiercely loyal angels are to heaven and how close you were to everybody in your flight. But Ishim, he’s a liar and a murderer and he’s going to take Benjamin and Mirabel down with him if we aren’t proactive.”

  
Cas looked like he desperately wanted to believe what you were saying, but he was having difficulty processing your accusations, “But, Ishim, he’s a good soldier. Why would he . . .?”

  
You reached over and grabbed his hand, “Look, many years ago, he called you and the rest of your garrison down to Earth for a mission. There was a woman, Lily Sunder, who supposedly gave birth to a nephilim and y’all had to . . . take care of it. Do you remember this?”

  
“Of course. Nephilim are rare and forbidden by the oldest laws in heaven,” he answered. 

  
“Hold up,” Dean interjected, “Cas, did you help kill a kid? I know we’re in a similar situation now, but that’s Rosemary’s baby.”

  
Cas replied with regret in his voice, “We completed a mission. It was horrific, but it was necessary. It was right.”

  
“Some mission,” Dean said with accusation in his eyes.

  
You shook your head, “No Cas, you were betrayed. Think about it, did you ever see this supposed nephilim yourself? Did you see that she was a child with grace?”

  
You could see Castiel replaying the events of that fateful day in his head, “No, I never laid eyes on her myself.”

  
“And when you all accused um . . . What was his name, the angel that supposedly fathered the nephilim?”

  
“Akobel. His name was Akobel,” Cas responded solemnly. 

  
“When you accused Akobel of his crimes, he tried to speak up, to deny the charges. Who was it that silenced him?”

  
Realization dawned across Castiel’s face, “Ishim. But why would he lie about such a thing?”

  
“Because, he is nuttier than a shithouse rat,” you replied, using a metaphor from your southern roots. 

Castiel and Sam looked befuddled at your analogy but Dean slapped his knee and roared with laughter, “That’s a good one. Never heard that before, sweetheart. I’m totally gonna steal that.”

  
You let out a small chuckle before continuing, “In all seriousness, he’s a bad angel. See, Lily Sunder was studying your race and she managed to summon an angel. Unfortunately for her, it was Ishim. He taught her Enochian magic and all the ways of heaven and the angels. However, he soon became obsessed with her and she eventually ran away from him. Akobel was there to protect her from Ishim. Her daughter was born long before she ever met angels. Her daughter was human Castiel and Ishim used you and everyone under his command to exact his own personal revenge.”

  
Castiel sat in stunned silence, processing everything you had just said. You rubbed your thumb back and forth across his hand, trying to comfort him. Sam spoke up, “So, how does this all play into here and now?”

  
You gave Castiel’s hand a squeeze, “Well, Lily Sunder has been using Enochian magic to keep herself young for all these years.”

  
Sam was bewildered, “Humans using Enochian magic? That’s . . . possible?

  
You nodded, “If you’re willing to burn off pieces of your soul to use the magic. Lily is so desperate for revenge, that she’s done it for a century, but she still has some of her soul left. She wants to kill every angel that had a part in killing her daughter. However, until Megatron . . .”

  
“Doucehbag,” Dean whispered under his voice.

  
“Yeah, he was a major dick with wings,” you continued, “Until he caused the angels to fall to Earth, she really had no way to track down everyone that was there that day. I never knew when she started her attack, but it should be about time for her to find Benjamin. Cas, I don’t know how you want to proceed, but I think if you could convince Mirabel and Benjamin that Ishim is the bad guy here, maybe Lily would be okay with just taking him out and then leaving the rest of you alone. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I think it’s the plan that will leave us with the fewest casualties.”

  
Castiel stood up from the table, gently removing his hand from yours, “I believe you, (Y/N). Ishim and I were close for many years, but I know you’re telling the truth.”

  
You were shocked, “Really?”

  
He nodded, “Yes. I think it’s best if we try to address both of them at the same time.. Let me track them down and then you can explain everything in person.”

  
Dean held up a hand, “Woah, woah, woah. Why can’t you just speak to your feathery friend yourself Cas?”

  
He huffed in frustration, “Dean, I’m not exactly on best terms with all the angels now, as you know. However, if Benjamin and Mirabel hear the story directly from (Y/N), they will believe it and we can prevent two unnecessary deaths.”

  
Sam asked, “How do you know they’ll believe her?”

  
“Yeah, I mean, I’m nobody and there’s no way I’m telling them who I really am or where I’m from. I’m just a pathetic human to them. They won’t believe me,” you argued. 

  
Cas smiled to himself, “Yes, yes they will. Trust me, they will believe it if they hear it directly from you.”

  
You eyed him suspiciously, “Is this another one of those ‘I can’t tell you anymore than you need to know’ things?” 

  
He nodded and you could feel Dean roll his eyes beside you. You did the same before answering, “All right, you gather them together and I’ll meet you there.”

  
“Correction,” Dean added as he pointed to himself and Sam, “We all will be going. You’re not doing this alone.”

  
You reached over and patted his knee, “Good. I was hoping you two would come, but I didn’t want to assume anything.”

  
Sam nodded his head, “Of course we’re coming. You may be the annoying little sister I never wanted, but we got your back.”

  
You turned your head to look at Sam, “Thanks Gumby,” you said, earning you a mocking smile from the younger Winchester. 

  
“(Y/N), this is Sam, not Gumby. Who’s Gumby?” Cas queried. 

  
Sam and Dean let out a little chuckle while you replied, “It’s . . . I-I know his name Cas . . . just never mind. Call when you find Benjamin and Mirabel. Sam, maybe you can see if you can find any records of a Lily Sunder renting a car or a hotel room or something? This way we can locate her too?”

  
“Come on princess, she’s not going to be dumb enough to use her real name,” Dean said. 

  
“Actually, she is. That’s how you all originally found her. She may have the patience of a nun, but she’s not bright enough to use aliases,” you responded. 

  
Dean gave you a quick kiss, “All right gang, let’s stop a one hundred year old angel assassin.”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
By lunchtime, the three of you were loaded up in the Impala and headed towards Austin, Texas where Cas had found Benjamin playing old school video games at the “_Recess Arcade Bar_”. Surprisingly, Cas’ was able to persuade his old comrade to listen to (Y/N)’s story. He was now on his way to track down Mirabel and hopefully bring her to the meeting as well. Sam had no luck in finding Lily yet, but continued his search in the car. Your girl had informed you that Lily was a tall, thin redhead with an eye patch, which helped her stand out in a crowd. 

The trip was uneventful and fairly quiet. She was in the back seat, enjoying the view from her window while she bopped to the music coming out of her headphones and Sam was on his phone, trying to find Lily for most of the trip. You finally rolled into town just after midnight and checked into a local motel. Sam, thankfully, found out that Lily had rented a room at a local hotel nearby, indicating that you probably arrived just in time to save Cas’ former comrades in arms. 

  
Even though it was late, Cas insisted on stopping by to come up with a game plan for tomorrow. You and her were already in your pajamas and in bed when he finally showed up. You rubbed a hand down your face, “Let’s make this quick, I’m ready for bed.”

  
She playfully ran a hand through your hair, “Awww, poor baby sweepy? Need go night night?”

  
You softly elbowed her, “Hush you, don’t talk baby talk to me.”

  
“Well, if you’re gonna act like a baby . . .” she started to say, but was interrupted by Sam, “Ok, enough of you two. Cas, please tell us you have a plan. Do we speak to the angels first or should we go after Lily and try to reason with her?”

  
Cas sat down in a chair at the table in front of the beds, “Well, I convinced Mirabel to come, but she insisted on driving here. She won’t be here until tomorrow afternoon and since Benjamin is already aware of the threat, I think our best bet is to try and catch Lily before she tries to attack us.”

  
“I agree,” she said sitting up against the headboard, “Lily seemed pretty reasonable and willing to listen once she realized that everyone was misinformed about the whole situation. It’s really Ishim she’s pissed at and everyone else is just guilty by association.”

  
You clapped your hands, “Awesome, plan decided. First we stop one-eyed Willy and then we’ll convince two of ‘Charlie’s Angels’ that their former leader lied to them so they would help kill an innocent kid. Sounds easy.”

“All in a day’s work,” she added. 

  
“Exactly,” you agreed, “So, now if we can all get some shut eye, we’ll continue this little love fest in the morning.”

  
Cas stood up from his seat, “I will be back at eight,” he announced, before suddenly disappearing. 

  
Sam turned off the light and you sunk down in the bed, pulling her so she was in the same position facing you. She gave you a lingering kiss before attempting to turn around. When you didn’t let her, she looked confused, “What are you doing?”

  
You shrugged a shoulder and rubbed your hand up and down her back, “Just trying something new. I thought we could sleep like this.”

  
“As long as I’m with you, I don’t care how we sleep,” she answered before tucking her head underneath your chin and snuggling into your chest. 

  
You felt a pillow hit your back and Sam warned, “I don’t care how you two sleep as long as you do sleep.”

  
“Sam, I have scissors in my bag. Don’t piss me off,” she threatened. 

  
“Yeah right,” Sam replied. 

  
Before she could continue the playful bickering with your brother, you silenced her with a hug, “All right, everyone is friends, let’s all go to sleep. Night, princess.”

  
“Night Dean,” she uttered barely above a whisper before cuddling up close to you. 

  
The next morning came way too fast as you were violently woken up by your alarm screaming that it was seven a.m. Surprisingly, she was still tucked securely into your chest. Sam turned off the alarm behind you and you gently woke her up by rubbing your hand down her back and giving her ass a little squeeze. 

  
She looked up at you and smiled, “Well, good morning to you too,” she said before giving you a long, lingering kiss. 

  
The three of you took turns showering and an hour later, you were ready to confront Lily Sunder. She thought it would be a good idea for Castiel to stay back while the humans went and spoke to her. After telling the hotel desk that she was wanted for credit card fraud, you were able to get her room number. You, (Y/N) and Sam arrived on Lily’s hotel floor and as you rounded a corner, you spotted the angel assassin. 

  
She, of course, had never met you before, but (Y/N) immediately recognized her and threw her hands in front of you and Sam protectively before speaking up, “Lily? Lily Sunder?”

  
The woman was caught off guard by hearing her own name and immediately brandished two angel blades out in front of her, “Who are you?”

  
Your girl held up her hands in a defensive position and encouraged you and Sam to do the same, “Look, you don’t know me, but I know who you are and why you’re here.”

You could see Lily assessing the situation in front of her for any signs of immediate danger before answering, “Look, I don’t want to hurt a human. I just want to finish what I started.”

  
You spoke up, “And we’re gonna help you do that. But please, listen to us first before you murder anymore innocent angels.”

  
She scoffed, “Innocent? Innocent my ass. You have no idea what they did to me. What they did to . . .”

  
“Your daughter?” (Y/N) interrupted, “Yeah, we do. Please, give me five minutes to change your mind about everything, except Ishim. Ishim is a douchebag and rightfully deserves to die.”

  
At this, Lily seemed to relax a little. She stowed her angel blades away and invited the three of you into her room but insisted she stand next to the door while you all took seats at the table. 

  
Lilly crossed her arms, “Okay, you wanted five minutes, so go.”

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

By the time you were done explain everything to Lily, more than fifteen minutes had passed. However, she had seemed to let down her guard a little bit and had even took a seated position on the end of her bed. She sat, fidgeting with her hands, “How could you possibly know all of this?”

  
“Let’s just say . . . I’m a psychic. Just like I know that you used to dream about May every night, but now, you don’t dream at all because you’ve burned off so much of your soul,” you answered. 

  
She shook her head and a single tell fell from her right eye, “I’ve never told anyone that before.”

  
Dean spoke up, “So, we good? You going to back off and not go after the other angels? Because Cas, Castiel, he’s our friend and we’re not going to let you hurt him.”

  
Lily held her head high and wiped her face, “I don’t know. Revenge is all I’ve had for over a hundred years. It’s what I am. It will be hard to just focus on Ishim.” 

  
“What if we can get Mirabel and Benjamin to help take him down? Would you be able to let it go then? I mean, come on Lily, they had no idea. No way they would’ve attacked you if it hadn’t been for Ishim,” you begged. 

  
“Perhaps. I can promise that, for the moment, I will only go after Ishim,” she conceded. 

  
“Well, I’m going to go talk to Benjamin and Mirabel, see if I can get them on our side and we can go from there, deal?” you asked. 

  
“That sounds okay with me, for now,” Lily agreed. 

  
“Sam, why don’t you stay here and (Y/N) and I will go meet up with Castiel,” Dean said. 

  
“Oh, so now I need babysitting?” Lily asked. 

  
Dean stood and grabbed your hand, heading towards the exit, “Just a little insurance policy, Kill Bill.”

  
She chuckled, “Ok, whatever you say.” 

  
Once you and Dean were in Baby and on your way to the next meeting, you heaved a heavy sigh, “Well, it seems like we might have Lily on our side, now just to convince two celestial beings that I’m telling the truth over their friend and former leader.”

  
Dean reached over and grabbed your hand to give you a reassuring squeeze, “You got this babe, just be honest.”

Soon, you were at the familiar café where the boys had originally met up with Ishim and Mirabel. It was easy to spot the three angels as you and Dean walked hand in hand towards the booth where they were seated. Castiel was facing the door whereas the other two had their backs to you. You could see that both Mirabel and Benjamin seemed to be in the same vessels that you knew from the show. 

  
Dean leaned down, “Wait, which one is Benjamin?”

  
“He’s the one in the dark skinned female. He found her many years ago. She was, she is, a powerfully devout vessel.”

  
Dean cocked his head to the side, “So, Benjamin is a woman?”

  
You rolled your eyes, “Well, he’s an angel and his vessel is a woman. After all, Castiel was a preteen girl once when he inhabited Claire’s body.”

  
Dean nodded his head, “You got a point there.”

Benjamin and Mirabel must have not known that you were approaching, because you caught the tail end of their conversation as you neared the booth. 

  
“An ape, really Castiel? Over Ishim? How could you believe her?” Benjamin asked angrily. 

  
“Yes Castiel, you’ve known Ishim for thousands of years and one pathetic human, who says she’s psychic, tells you that he lied to us and forced us to kill one of our brothers and an innocent child and you suddenly believe her?” Mirabel added. 

  
You stood frozen in your tracks, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but here, “_It sounds like they’ve already made up their minds._”

  
Dean got ahead of you and gently pulled you along, not allowing your fear to get the better of you. Castiel beckoned you over and you slid in to seat beside him, sheepishly staring at the table, while Dean squeezed in on the end. The other two angels were caught off by your sudden appearance and quickly stopped talking. 

  
Castiel made the introductions, “Mirabel, Benjamin, this is (Y/N), the uh . . . human, I was telling you about.”

  
You chewed your lips nervously, willing yourself to look up at them. It didn’t help when Benjamin insulted you, “Well girl, come on. You’re quick to accuse one of our own of murder, the least you can do is say it to our face.”

  
“Hey, dude looks like a lady, this woman just probably saved both of your pathetic lives, so cut her a break. We heard what you said when we came in,” Dean said, coming to your rescue. 

  
“And?” Mirabel replied in a monotone voice. 

  
You could tell Dean was about to reach across the table, mission be damned, and start a fight. You quickly placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping to calm him down, “It’s okay, Dean. I can understand how they would have their reservations.” You took a deep breath and finally spoke to the two angels seated across from you, “Yes, for all intents and purposes here, I’m a psychic and what Castiel said is true. Ishim lied to you. If we don’t allow Lily Sunder to kill him, I’m afraid she won’t stop until she’s killed all of you. I know it’s hard to believe, so feel free to ask me any questions you have.”

  
The mood at the table changed instantaneously when you made eye contact with Benjamin and Mirabel. They jolted in their seats, as if they had been shocked by an electric current and their mouths widened slightly as their focus shifted between you and Castiel. They seemed to ask him a silent question and he nodded his answer. 

  
Dean caught the silent exchange too, “Somebody wanna fill us in on the inside secret here?”

  
You gasped when Mirabel and Benjamin each reached across the table and took one of your hands gently in theirs. Benjamin was the one to speak up, “Ok, we believe you (Y/N). So, what do we need to do?”

  
Dean scoffed, “So, you three make googly eyes at each other and presto, you trust her over the other feathered friend?”

  
Mirabel narrowed her eyes at Dean, “You’re too primitive to understand this, but yes.” She looked to you and smiled, actually _fucking smiled_, “We would believe anything she says.”

  
“_Ok this is getting really really creepy._”

  
You leaned and whispered to Cas, “Is this part of that super secret you can’t tell me?”

  
He nodded his head, “This is why you had to be here in person.”

  
You tried to regain you composure and adjust yourself to the angel’s new overly friendly attitudes, “Well, like I said, to avoid as much death as possible, I think we need to help Lily take down Ishim. She’s still not sure if she can forgive the rest of you, but she said she would put it aside until after he was dead.”

  
“Ok, let’s make Ishim pay for what he did,” Benjamin said in agreement. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
Over the next half hour, the five of you came up with a plan and called Sam and Lily to get them up to speed. Luckily, Mirabel knew where Ishim was staying, so locating him wouldn’t be an issue. 

  
An hour later, you were standing outside the abandoned church that Ishim was using as his safe house with your girl, Lily and your brother while the others confronted Ishim. They wanted to give him the opportunity to admit his wrongdoing and accept his punishment gracefully. But, from what you heard of the dick so far, you were sure it wasn’t going to be that easily. Soon enough, you heard Castiel whistle, signaling for you all to enter the church. 

  
Lily stormed in, obviously fueled by anger, followed by Sam, then you and (Y/N). Ishim stood in a circle surrounded by the other three angels and spoke cockily, “Come on, who are you going to believe. Castiel’s two favorite pets and a human who obviously made a demon pact to stay young or me?”

  
Mirabel and Benjamin grabbed him by the arms while Castiel spoke, “Neither. We’re going to believe her,” he finished as he pointed to your girl. 

  
Ishim smirked, “What? Does this one do tricks? Is she a dancing mon . . key . . . ,” but his voice trailed off when he spotted her peaking around behind you. He opened and closed his mouth several times, “No, it can’t be.”

  
“It can be and it is Ishim,” Benjamin replied with a smile, “So, now you see. We know you’re lying.”

  
Castiel nodded to Lily who stepped forward, angel blade in her hand. He turned to Ishim and said, “Ishim, you have lied to your brothers and sisters, resulting in the death in not only an innocent human child, but one of our own brothers as well. The penalty for your crimes . . . is death.”

  
With that Lily stepped forward, “I have waited so long for this,” she uttered before taking the blade and driving it into Ishim’s chest. 

  
His eyes and mouth emanated a blindingly bright, white light and you had to shield your eyes as it grew in intensity. Finally, you saw the light disappear from behind your eyelids, signaling it was clear to look again. The angel’s dead vessel lay on the floor, his wings charred against the carpet. Lily stood above his body, still wielding her blade. 

  
“Okay, he’s dead. Are you done?” you asked creeping forward. 

She looked to Mirabel, then Benjamin and finally Castiel before answering, “I . . . I don’t know.”

  
“Wrong answer,” you said, reaching forward to try and take her blade. 

  
“Dean, no!” Castiel called out, alerting Lily to your presence. 

  
She quickly turned and held out the blade in front of her for protection. Before you could attack, Castiel made his way over to stand beside you so he could make eye contact as he spoke to Lily, “I’m sorry. We were all wrong. We didn’t know that we were killing an innocent, but ignorance is no excuse for what we did. I truly can’t imagine the depths of your loss. To lose a child, I can’t even begin to imagine the pain. I think I speak on behalf of Mirabel and Benjamin when I say, that if you leave here and you find that you can’t forgive us, we’ll be waiting for you.”

  
(Y/N) pleaded with her, “Lily, please. Save the rest of your soul so that you can hopefully see your daughter again one day. She’s waiting for you. Don’t you want to join her in heaven when you die?”

  
Lily started to cry, “Could I maybe really see her again? After all that I’ve done?”

  
Your girl nodded and smiled, “Yes, you can.”

  
Lily took a deep breath, “Thank you for your kind words Castiel and you two,” she said turning to face the other two angels, “for your help. I think I’m done for now.” She stowed her blade away and walked past you and out of the church without another glance back. 

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
After getting a few hours of sleep, you and the boys had managed to return to the bunker by the next evening. Castiel was already there waiting for you, having decided he was going to start looking for Kelly while using the bunker as his home base. Dean threw down the pizza that you all had picked up for dinner onto the war room table while you went to the kitchen for refreshments. You brought each of them a beer, including Castiel, while you sat down beside Dean and took a long drink of your green apple wine cooler. 

  
Cas took a drink of his beer, “This will do very little for me, but I appreciate the gesture.”

  
Dean popped the top off of his drink, “Hey, you earned it.”

  
Cas stared at your bottle, “But why is hers green?”

  
Sam chuckled, “Because she’s a wimp.”

  
“Ugh, I am not! I can drink you under the table any day Sam Winchester,” you retorted defensively. 

  
“Yeah, I’d like to see you try,” he replied. 

  
“Any time, any place,” you offered. 

  
Dean interjected, “Sam, I’m pretty sure she’s right.”

  
“We’ll see about that. Just you wait,” Sam said before digging into dinner.

  
Dean gave you a side wink before taking a bite of his first slice of pizza. 

  
“Cas,” you said looking across the table, “Look, I don’t know what insulting things Ishim may have said before we came into the church, but please don’t let him get into your head. Even though you’ve changed, you are not weak. You are still a fierce, warrior of God. Don’t let that dickhead make you doubt just how extraordinary you are.”

  
Castiel nodded, “Thank you, that means a lot.”

  
You winked at him, “Anytime Cas.”

  
You took a bite of your slice, but noticed that Dean’s beer was empty. You stood up and started to head towards the kitchen when he asked, “Hey, where you going doll?”

  
“To get you another beer, I’ll be right back.”

  
While in the kitchen, your phone rang and you saw it was Jody. It had been several days since you talked, so you took some time to catch up and apologize for not calling sooner. After a few minutes, you let her know that you were in the middle of dinner, but promised to text her later. Instead of just grabbing one drink you decided to take a whole six pack back into the war room with you for both of the boys. 

  
“Well, it’s about damn time,” Dean said playfully as he grabbed a beer from the cardboard container. 

  
“Yeah yeah, my bad. Jody called and we were catching up,” you explained. 

  
“Jody? Since when do you talk to Jody?” Sam asked. 

  
“Since I’m constantly surrounded by an abundance of testosterone, I decided I needed at least one other friend who I could talk to that wasn’t a guy. Jody’s an awesome woman, so she’s the lucky winner,” you answered. 

  
Sam shook his head, “Poor, poor Jody.”

  
“See if I bring you a beer again,” you replied. 

  
Dean leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek, “That’s right Sam, don’t piss off the bringer of beers.”

  
“Eh, she won’t do anything about it,” Sam chuckled. 

  
Before you could continue to argue with Sam, Dean’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and put it on speaker phone once he realized it was his mom calling in. He answered the phone, “Hey mom, I got you on speaker with the whole Scooby gang. What’s up?”

  
“Hey everybody, I’m actually glad I caught you all in one place. So look, the Men of Letters just gave me a new case and I need some help. You all free?”

  
Dean and Sam nodded to one another before Dean answered, “Sure Mom, what is it?”

  
You leaned forward, “Let me guess, they want you steal something from a demon, right?”

  
“You know this, don’t you (Y/N)?” Mary asked. 

  
You smiled smugly, “I sure do Mary. Text us the details and we’ll head your way tomorrow, sound good?”

  
“Sounds great honey. Boys, I’ll see you soon. Love you!” She replied. 

  
“Bye mom,” Sam and Dean said in unison. 

  
Dean leaned back in his chair and tucked his phone in his pocket, “So sweetheart, what are we in for?”

  
“Oh this one is a doozy,” you said slapping Dean’s knee, “How does everyone feel about stealing the Colt back from a Prince of Hell?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any theories on what’s going on with the Reader or why Benjamin and Mirabel trusted her when they looked into her eyes? I promise, the reveal is not too far off! Thanks for continuing to read!


	31. They Always Smell Like Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You, Team Free Will and Mother Mary recover the Colt from Ramiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everybody that continues to read! I’m so excited for the next handful of chapters coming up! Now, on with the story. . .

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
You, Sam and Castiel had begged for more details, but she refused to tell you anything else about the case until you all got a “good night’s sleep”. Her concern was refreshing, but also pretty damn annoying at times. You were especially perturbed because, even though you hated to admit it, you had felt less worn down and exhausted since she dropped down into your life. So, after a night’s rest and a quick stop for coffee, the four of you were cruising down the highway on your way to Pueblo, Colorado. The plan was to meet your mother for an early dinner and then take out the demon that night. 

  
You cracked your neck, settling in for the six hour drive, “All right sweetheart, spill. I think it’s time you filled us in on all the dirty details of what we’re about to get into.”

  
Castiel was staring at her intensely, “Yes, all of the Princes of Hell are supposed to be dead. The last one to go was Azazel.”

Sam was shocked, “What?”

  
“You mean old ‘yellow eyes’ was one of these damn things?” you asked. 

  
She nodded her head from the seat behind you, “Yep, he was. These creatures were the first generation of demons, after Lilith. Lucifer turned them himself.”

  
“That’s right,” Castiel added, “They were trained to be generals to lead demonic armies in the war against Heaven.”

  
“Hell lied about them all being dead, obviously to protect them,” she started to explain, “but really the only one that’s dead is Azazel. There’s two more, Dagon and Asmodeus who are still floating around out there.”

  
You slapped the steering wheel lightly, “Great, our own holy trinity of evil.”

  
She leaned forward and gently rubbed your shoulders, “Yeah, but we’ll be prepared for them. Ramiel doesn’t know that we know about the Colt. So, if we can use Bobby’s recipe to whip up some fresh bullets, all we have to do is wait for him to come home and . . .”

  
“We gank his ass,” you said, finishing her sentence. 

  
“But why does Ramiel have the Colt in the first place? The last time we saw it, we tried to shoot Lucifer in the face to stop the apocalypse and it’s been lost ever since then,” Sam asked. 

  
She held up a finger, “Aha! When you boys accidentally left it behind, Crowley found it.”

  
“Of course,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

She chuckled, “I know, it’s always Crowley who’s behind the dastardly deed. So, after you all successfully shoved Lucifer back into the cage, there was no one to run hell. He took the Colt as well as the Lance of Michael to Ramiel as gifts before offering him the throne. However, neither he nor any of the other Princes wanted to rule, so the crown was passed along to Crowley.”

  
You held up a hand, “Hold up. You mean, Crowley was like fourth in line to rule?” She nodded her head before you continued speaking, “Heh, heh, heh. I knew that douche wasn’t good enough to be King of Hell.”

  
Castiel reached over and touched her on the shoulder, “Did you say Ramiel also has the Lance of Michael?”

  
She nodded, “Yeah, yeah he does.”

  
“What is that exactly?” you asked. 

  
She inhale deeply before answering, “It’s a very powerful weapon that belonged to the archangel Michael. It kills everything it touches. If you’re a demon, you burn and go up in a puff of smoke. If you’re an angel, you rot away slowly.”

  
“Why would Michael have something like that? Shouldn’t it be the opposite way around?” Sam queried. 

  
She leaned back against her seat, “Well, there was only one angel that Michael wanted to kill and he wanted him to die slowly and painfully.”

  
Realization dawned on you, “Wait babe, are you saying that that lance . . . Can it kill Lucifer?”

  
“From what I know, theoretically, yes,” she replied. 

  
“Holy shit!” you exclaimed excitedly. 

“In the story that I saw though, you all obviously had no idea about any of this. Castiel,” she looked over to your best friend with sad eyes, “You were stabbed. You almost died, but Crowley broke the lance in half and whatever spell work was in the weapon was broken and you lived. So, you all never really got to use it.”

  
“Well, looks like you are good for something then,” Sam joked as he reached back and playfully punched her in the shoulder. 

  
“Why was Crowley there?” Castiel asked. 

  
“Oh yeah,” she replied, “Since he was made King of Hell, all that Ramiel wanted was to be left alone. So, of course when you all attacked, he knew about it. Crowley has a couple of extra demons protecting and watching Ramiel’s home, but they should be easy enough to take out. Plus, if I wasn’t here, Mary would’ve called in Wally to help, and he . . . he didn’t make it,” she finished with regret in her voice. 

  
“Just another life you’re saving today sweetheart,” you said encouragingly. 

  
“Thanks Dean,” she replied with a small smile. “I just hope everything will go as smoothly as it did with Lily Sunder. Cas, how are Benjamin and Mirabel doing?”

  
“They are eternally grateful for you saving their lives. They ask that if you ever need a favor to call upon them,” Castiel answered. 

  
“Well doll, looks like you got a couple of ‘phone a feathered friend’ cards up your sleeve,” you said enthusiastically. 

  
“I’m just glad to have helped, but I’ll keep that in mind for a rainy day. As long as no one does anything stupid,” she said slowly, looking in your direction, “I shouldn’t need any favors.”

  
You feigned innocence and pointed to yourself, “Who? Me? Naaaaah, doesn’t sound like me.”

  
She leaned forward once more and as she planted a kiss on your cheek, she whispered, “Idjit,” causing warmth to spread across your entire body and deep down into your bones. 

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
It was a little after 5:00pm when Baby purred her way into the back parking lot of ‘_Raul’s Coffee Diner_’. Mary was already sitting in her car and smiled when she saw the four of you pull in front of her. Dean shut off the Impala, got out and opened the door for you. He took your hand in his before making his way around to the other side of the car. 

  
After greeting one another, Mary thanked you all for coming, “Hey boys. Castiel. (Y/N). Thanks for coming. I know you all are busy.”

  
“Not really,” Castiel replied dejectedly, “We haven’t had any luck on finding Kelly Kline yet. It’s like she’s just disappeared.”

  
“Well, hopefully she’ll turn up soon,” Mary offered optimistically. 

  
Dean threw his hand around your shoulder and you automatically wrapped yours around his middle. He started to turn and walk towards the restaurant’s entrance, “All right, ramblers, let’s get rambling.”

  
Once settled inside a table at the restaurant, with you in Wally’s position, the waitress came over and poured everyone coffee, “Okay, what does everyone want?”

  
Sam was busy digging around in his bag for his tablet, “I, uh just give me the chicken Caesar salad, light on the dressing.”

  
Dean looked up from the plastic, orange menu, “Mandy? That short for Amanda?”

  
She rolled her eyes and replied with a monotone voice, “Duh.”

  
Dean was slightly taken aback by her attitude, “Yeah, well I’ll go with the cheeseburger.”

  
Sam was engrossed on his iPad, trying to pull up the Men of Letter’s archives, “Hey, what’s the uh password here?”

  
“Extra cheese,” the waitress replied. 

  
Dean misunderstood her though, “No, no. Just as it is, is fine.”

  
The waitress huffed, “_That’s_ the password. ‘_Extra cheese_’.”

  
Dean sipped on his coffee and looked like he was about to bite her head off, so you stepped in to move the conversation along, “I’ll take the mushroom Swiss burger please.”

  
Dean gave you one of the most disgusted looks you’ve ever seen in your life, “Mushrooms?”

  
“Yeah, so what? They’re delicious,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulder. 

  
“They’re a fungus.”

  
You playfully punched him in the shoulder, “You’re a damn fungus.”

  
He smirked and grabbed your hand when you dropped it back down to your side and continued to hold it underneath the table. 

  
“Steak and eggs. Bloody,” Mary ordered matter-of-factly. 

  
The waitress’ attention finally focused on Castiel and she noticeably perked up, “And how ‘bout you, handsome?”

  
Sam and Dean noticed Mandy’s attitude change and watched as Castiel ordered the “sunrise special”. Mandy gave him a huge grin before walking away, leaving Castiel staring at her in confusion. 

  
“Oh dude, she is into you,” Dean said leaning forward. 

  
“Dean . . .” Mary chided. 

  
You rolled your eyes as Dean spoke, “No, this is good. We’ve been looking for teachable moments this . . .”. His voice trailed off and he chuckled and clicked his tongue against his cheek.

  
Mary’s phone vibrated and you squeezed Dean’s hand, “Oh, you’re gonna try and show Cas how to pick up women, is that what’s going on here?”

  
He gave a cocky smile, “Ain’t no trying here babe. Just watch the master work.”

  


“Everything all right mom?” Sam asked. 

  
Mary looked at her phone, “Yeah it’s just the British Men of Letters checking in. Making sure I know what the plan is.”

  
You huffed, “They don’t even know the full story of what’s going on.”

  
Mary nodded in agreement, “Right? So . . .”

  
However, she was interrupted by Sam’s complaining, “The internet here sucks. I downloaded all the bunker’s files to a new archive, but we’re not getting any signal . . .”

  
Dean closed his eyes and pretended to snore, “Nobody cares. Cas, here’s the thing you need to know about waitresses, okay?”

  
You tilted your head and ran your tongue along the underside of your front teeth, “Oh please Dean, tell us what Cas needs to know.”

  
Dean smirked, “See Cas, they get hit on all day long, so you gotta bring your A-game. But upside, they always smell like food,” he finished with another click of his tongue and a thumbs up. 

  
“Oh yeah, they smell like food? You like that in a woman?” you asked at the same time Sam wondered aloud, “Why is the upside they smell like food? Why would you want them to smell like food”

  
“What? It’s great?” Dean said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  
“You want me to smell like food? Should I keep a steak in my back pocket so you won’t go roaming around on me,” you teased. 

  
He leaned in close and before he kissed you lovingly on the lips, he said, “Hey, couldn’t hurt.”

  
“Hey, let’s focus here,” Mary said slightly irritated. She demanded everyone’s attention, “Screens down, eyes up, shut up.”

  
Everyone apologized and you couldn’t help but to be a little terrified, yet impressed at how commanding she could be in the blink of an eye. Dean definitely got his domineering side honest. Just when your thoughts were taking a turn straight into the gutter, Mary started to speak again, “Okay, (Y/N), I assume you’ve told everyone else a little bit about what’s going on, but fill me in.”

  
You shook your heads to rid your mind of images of Dean standing above you, half naked and about to have his way with you, “Yeah, right. Gotcha. So uh basically the demon is Ramiel and he’s a Prince of Hell. We know what you’re going after and Sam has agreed to make some bullets for the weapon. I figure once you steal the Colt, we can load it up and be waiting for him when he comes home. As soon as he steps through the door, someone can take easily take him out. There might be a couple of other demons that show up, but as long as we all have weapons, they should be easy to take down.”

  
Dean held up his hand and blew on his fingertips before rubbing them across the top of his chest, “Well, since I have some experience in this field, I guess I should be the one taking the shot.”

  
Mary was obviously confused, “What? What do you mean?”

  
“Mom,” Sam explained, “The yellowed eyed demon, Azazel, he was also a Prince of Hell. That’s why his eyes were yellow.”

  
She was momentarily stunned, “Wow. How many of these things are there?”

  
“Including Ramiel, three,” you answered. 

  
After taking a second to process everything, she was back into hunter mode, “Ok, well this demon, Prince of Hell, whatever, goes night fishing from about eight to eight forty-five each night. That’s our window to sneak in and get everything set up.”

  
“Sounds good Mary, but I remember that he got back a little early in the episode I watched, so we gotta be prepared for that,” you added. 

  
Everyone nodded in understanding before Sam noticed that the waitress was coming back to refill everyone’s coffee, “Incoming.”

  
As the waitress picked up Castiel’s cup, you did your best to keep from laughing as you watched him stealthily lean over to sniff her. Dean caught this too and asked, “Hey, Mandy? Question for you? My shy, but devastatingly handsome, friend here was uh, he was just wondering, when do you get off?”

  
She looked to Cas and smiled like a Cheshire cat, “Whenever I can.”

  
The brothers were shocked by her answer, but you had known exactly what she was going to say. All Sam managed to do was mouth “wow” whereas Dean was more vocal, “Hey-O! Point one for her. Just dropped that on the table.”

“Good for her. Cas, maybe you should go after her,” you suggested. 

  
He looked like he might be considering it, but Mary again regained everybody’s attention, “Ok, so I will get the Colt. Sam you can make some bullets this afternoon. Dean will take the shot and I will be inside with him as backup.”

  
Dean nodded in agreement, “Cas, why don’t you and Sam wait outside for Ramiel to show up and then come inside once he gets home to help keep a lookout for the other demons.”

  
“Hey, what about me?” you asked, eyes narrowed at Dean as you mentally scolded him, “_Don’t think I’m sitting out, Winchester._”

  
He saw the quiet determination in your eyes and said, “Uh, we’ll load up your gun with devil’s trap bullets and you can help take down the backup demons. Deal?”

  
“Deal,” you agreed, holding out your free hand to shake his, which he did a little too enthusiastically.

  
“What about the lance of Michael?” Cas asked. 

  
“_Shit, I didn’t mean to mention that to them. I mean, yeah it could kill Lucifer, but what if they try to use it to hurt Kelly or Jack. Uggggggh,_” you thought as your inner self sat in a corner with a palm in her face. 

  
“The what?” Mary queried. 

  
You were about to explain when the waitress brought over the food to the table. When she was gone, Dean started putting ketchup on his burger and after passing the bottle to you, he explained, “Oh, no big deal, it’s just a weapon that can kill any demon and archangel, including Lucifer.”

  
Mary choked on the bite of steak she had just taken, “Say what?”

  
You chuckled nervously, “Yep, it’s a pretty powerful weapon. It was originally used to stab Castiel, and it had to be broken to save his life. Since we are, hopefully avoiding that, then maybe we can salvage the weapon too. Ramiel had it on him and it was invisible. So, if we kill him, maybe it’ll appear? Not sure exactly how that works.”

  
Dean had a mouthful of burger, “All right, everybody eat up. Tonight, we take down another Prince of Hell.”

  
The meal was pleasant and you and Dean were like lovesick teenagers, never keeping your hands off one another for more than minute. Eventually, you were able to focus on the others at the table, “So, Mary, how’s it going with the British Men of Letters? They still think that you’re on the outs with the boys and I?”

  
She took a sip of water and hesitantly replied, “Yeah, I’ve tried to make them think that things are rough between us. But you know, they don’t seem so bad.”

  
Sam raised his eyebrows, “Mom, are you serious?”

  
She shrugged her shoulders, “What? Since I’ve been working with them, we’ve taken out more than a dozen vamp nests, four werewolf packs and a ghoul who was eating his way through Arlington.”

  
“Yeah, and how many more hunters have they captured and tortured for information?” Dean asked, his voice dry.

  
Mary sighed heavily and looked pleadingly at Sam and Dean, “I know they didn’t treat you right. But, I just feel like they’re doing a lot of good here. Maybe we can eliminate all the monsters and then you all . . .” she let her gaze flick back and forth between you and Dean, “Maybe you all can have somewhat of a normal life. 

  
“I think we passed normal about three highway exits back,” Dean replied. 

  
You spoke up, “Mary, you are doing good with them. Mick is a great guy, but everyone else in that cluster, they’re bad. If you get out of line or try to give someone a second chance or don’t follow their ‘code’ they immediately write you off. And when I say they write you off, I mean they either kill you or brainwash you into becoming their own robotic assassin and make you go after the people you love. So, when it’s time to get out, please, please be open to listening to me.”

  
Castiel reached over and placed a hand on Mary’s arm, “You can trust her.”

  
Mary leaned her head back and pinched the bridge of her nose, obviously torn between wanting to keep her family as safe as possible and what she knew was the logical choice. 

  
“_She is so a Winchester._”

  
Finally, she opened her eyes again, “All right, all right. When it’s time to abandon ship, I’ll listen.”

  
“Thank you Mary, you won’t regret it. I promise,” you said, trying to give her your best reassuring smile. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
After watching Ramiel leave his house, all of you managed to sneak into the demon’s home, undetected. Sam had a handful of bullets ready to go, so he went downstairs with your mother to retrieve the Colt. She was sitting in a chair, loading up her own clip of bullets with the devil’s trap carved into the top and you took a moment to admire the way her hair fell down her shoulders and back, slightly blocking her face. She was biting her lip in concentration and you reminisced on all the times you had tasted her and felt the smoothness of her lips under your own tongue. 

  
She slapped the clip in her hand and smiled with satisfaction as she loaded it up into her gun, “Well, I’m ready to go.” She looked over and caught you staring, “ Take a picture Dean, it’ll last longer.”

  
“Not my fault you look so sexy playing soldier,” you said leaning against the wall. 

  
She stood and tucked her gun into the back of pants, “Dean Winchester, you know this is very serious business.”

  
You let her eyes roam her body, admiring the curves you were eager to explore even further. She slowly ambled across the room until she was inches from you, “Dean, my eyes are up here,” she said reaching for your chin. 

  
You brought your eyes up a little bit, letting them rest on her chest. You smiled over-dramatically, “Yeah, but your boobs are down here.”

  
She leaned down until she was in your eyesight, “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

  
“And?” you said wiggling your eyebrows. 

  
She rolled her eyes, but you took her by surprise and grabbed her around the waist, spinning her until she was against the wall. 

  
Her voice was filled with laughter, “Dean! We have a mission to do here.”

  
“I got a few minutes for my own mission,” you said leaning down to try and kiss her. 

  
However she turned her head, “No. I don’t smell like food, so why would you want to kiss me,” she said playfully. 

  
You grabbed her face and leaned up to sniff her hair, “Technically, you do sweetheart. Your hair always smells like coconut from your shampoo and here,” you moved your head down, letting your lips graze her neck, “you smell like peaches from your body wash. So much better than greasy diner food.”

  
You pulled back and looked to see she was biting her lip to keep from smiling, “Way to dig yourself out of a grave there, Dean.”

  
Instead of answering, you pressed your lips forcefully onto hers. Any lingering resistance she had quickly faded and soon she had her arms on your shoulders. You gave her several long kisses before licking her lower lip. She quickly opened her mouth and you were finally able to taste her for the first time today. She leaned into the wall and let you take control of the moment, allowing you to move her tongue around with yours and nip playfully at her lips. 

  
“Guys, really?” Sam scolded from behind.

  
You gave her one more kiss, “Hey, it was her fault!” 

  
“Yeah, looks like she’s the one with any say in the matter right now,” Sam replied. 

  
“You two,” Mary shook her head in annoyance, but you could see she was really trying to hide a smile, “Come on, let’s get into position.”

  
You turned your head to make a joke, but she knew exactly what you were thinking. She pressed a finger to your mouth, “Dean. No. I already know what you’re going to say.”

  
You kissed her finger and finally released her from her pinned position against the wall. 

  
Not too longer after that, everyone was ready to go. Castiel had spotted Ramiel coming back and you could hear him whistling some classical song as he approached. Sam and your girl were guarding the back door, in case the backup demons sneaked up on you and your mother and Castiel were hiding behind the walls in the kitchen. You had the Colt locked and loaded, aimed at the front door. 

  
Ramiel stepped up onto the porch and you heard him place something metallic down by the front door. The screen door squeaked as he opened it and as soon as he opened the front door, you fired a shot straight into his heart. 

  
He looked at you condescendingly, “Really?” But then, he started to crackle and flash bright orange. That’s when he got a good look at exactly what weapon you were holding and realized what you shot him with. 

  
He cried out in agony, “No! How did you . . . _AHHHH_!” He tried to take a few steps forward to attack, but the deed was done. His vessel slumped to the floor in a disheveled heap. 

  
You blew on the end of the gun’s barrel, “Well, that was easy.”

  
“Yeah, thanks to me, idjit,” you girl called out from the back door. 

  
You turned and gave her a wink, but Sam interrupted the moment, “Incoming. We got two demons coming from the back.”

  
Your girl whipped open the door before anyone could protest. You quickly ran to her side, but she had already fired two shots, sending a bullet into the head of each demon, trapping them in their spot. Your mother and Sam quickly approached them, demon blades wielded and stabbed each one in the heart. They sizzled and lit up that familiar orange hue before falling to the ground, dead. 

  
She looked over her shoulder to you, blew on the end of the barrel of her own girl and winked, “You’re not the only one that’s a crack shot.”

  
You walked up behind her, wrapping your arms around her middle, “I guess not. Nice work, babe.”

  
Your mother wiped off her blade, “We better get out of here before anyone else shows up. Where’s Castiel?”

  
“Right here,” he replied in his gruff voice. Everyone looked to him to see him standing over Ramiel’s body. He bent down and picked up something you hadn’t noticed when the former Prince of Hell crashed to the floor. Castiel stood back up and held a long wooden spear with a polished silver spear at the top. 

  
“That’s it,” she confirmed as she remained in your embrace, “That’s the Lance of Michael.”

  
“Wow,” Sam said barely above a whisper. 

  
You started to hand the Colt over to Cas, “Hey, think you can take both of these back to the bunker real quick for us? I’d feel better knowing these weapons weren’t out in the open.”

  
“Dean, I need the Colt,” your mother said sternly, “Remember, that’s the whole reason the Men of Letters sent me here.”

  
“Screw those asshats,” you responded angrily, “They’ll never know that it wasn’t here. This is ours, not theirs.”

  
Your girl turned around in your arms and looked softly into your eyes, “Dean, I know how much this means to you, but we will get it back. Soon, too.”

  
You rolled your eyes and started to argue, but she cut you off, “If we take it now, not only will those British bastards be suspicious of your mother, but we won’t take down the alpha vampire. Trust me, we’ll get it back.”

  
You exhaled sharply and clicked your tongue several times, “Fine. I don’t like it, at all, but you haven’t steered us wrong yet.” You emptied the gun’s chamber and handed it over to your mom.

  
Your girl smiled brightly at you, making the sacrifice worth it, “Thank you Dean. And when everything works out, you can tell me those three special words I’ve been trying to teach you.”

  
You started to lean in closer to her, “Yeah, never gonna happen sweetheart.”

  
“All right, all right you two. Let’s get out of here,” Sam ordered. 

  
“I will take the lance to the bunker for safe keeping. I’ll see you all there later. I’m going to resume my search for Kelly,” Castiel announced before disappearing into thin air. 

  
You grabbed your girl’s hand and started to escape out the back door, “Ok everyone, let’s get out of here.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

You were almost back to the diner where Mary had parked her car earlier. Everyone was pleased with the success of the mission. You were so happy that the family before you weren’t lying to one another, as far as you knew, and that Mary was being honest about her involvement with the Men of Letters. 

  
“So, hon, how exactly are we going to take down the alpha vampire with the Colt?” Mary wanted to know. 

  
You started to explain, “Well, in my world, Sam and Dean would still be in the dark about your involvement with the Men of Letters. My Dean here,” you leaned forward and patted him on the shoulder, “Was of course very upset about this whereas Sam was trying to keep an open mind to keep an open relationship with you. You convinced Sam to come talk to you at the Men of Letter’s headquarters to try and explain why you lied to them. Apparently, that day, there was a meeting about how you all have basically wiped out all of the vampires in the first region of focus and how you were going to take down the final nest. However, the alpha was pissed and helped that nest track you down and attacked the headquarters. But, Sam is able to make some bullets for the Colt and ends up shooting him.”

  
“But, since we’re not fighting . . .” Mary trailed off, confused about what to say next.

  
“Since you’re not really fighting, you just need to make sure to call or text Sam that day. He can come over to pretend that you’re trying to talk and resolve everything,” you replied. 

  
“It’s a date then,” Mary said before leaning up and patting her youngest Sam on the shoulder. 

  
“Can you tell us anymore about what exactly is going to happen that day?” Sam asked as he rubbed his mother’s hand. 

  
You turned your head side to side a couple of times, “I could but . . . I’m afraid if I give too much warning that the alpha will know something is up and won’t show. Trust me, I’ve thought about this. I feel awful because, a few people are going to die. But you and your mother will be safe. I know you all want to save as many lives as possible, but if we can take down the alpha, I think it’ll be worth it.”

  
You could feel the tension rise in the car as the Winchesters debated their next move.

  
“Well, what if you and I go too? Maybe we can help to save some of the others?” Dean questioned.

  
You shifted nervously in your seat, “Maybe, possibly, but I don’t know if the alpha would show up. You know how careful he is. If he senses even the remote possibly that it might be a trap or that he could die, he won’t appear. Guys, if you really want to try and save the few people that die and risk losing a chance at the alpha, I will be behind you, no questions asked. I’ll tell you every detail I remember from what happens that night. But, if you want to take down the father of all vampires, this is how it has to happen.”

  
Sam, Mary and Dean looked around at one another and seemed a little relieved that you would follow their wishes, even if it went against your own. Finally, Dean spoke up, “Well, everything we’ve done your way has worked out for the best so far, so we’ll do it your way.”

  
“Thanks,” you said looking around to Sam and Mary, “It really means a lot that you trust me. I have nothing but the best intentions for all of you.”

  
“It’s probably best (Y/N) stay as far away from the Men of Letters anyway,” Mary stated. 

  
Dean had a threatening tone in his voice as he asked, “What? Why?”

  
“They’ve asked me to look into you, tried to make me doubt your motives and question your relationship with Sam and Dean,” she replied. 

  
“Why would they do that? I’m just another nobody to them,” you said.

  
Mary smiled, “Exactly. You’re nobody. They can’t find any evidence of your past or who you are or where you came from. They literally know nothing about you and it has them perturbed. I believe the phrase ‘just dropped out of the sky’ has been tossed around several times. So, they wanted me to try and find out more about you and report back to them, saying that I would be protecting my sons if I helped them.”

  
“Those motherfuckers!” Dean exclaimed as he slammed the steering wheel. 

  
“Wait. So they’re . . . They’re scared of me?” you wondered aloud. 

  
“Yep,” Mary confirmed. 

  
You knew you should’ve been terrified after seeing just how they deal with threats, but as long as Mick was still alive and in charge, you felt safe. An overwhelming sense of pride flooded through you, “Good. They should be. Because I am going to help you all take them down and they won’t even know what hit them.”

  
Dean caught your eye in the rear view mirror, “There’s my badass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcome and sincerely make my day!! I have the next chapter written and am working on finishing the one after that before posting, but I hope to do it sooner than a week. The chapter I’m working on is turning out to be very long, but hopefully it’ll be worth the wait! Until next time 😘


	32. Straight on Till Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds a case and it’s one you know about.

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
Before you knew it, it was three weeks into the new year. You and the boys had gone on a couple of small hunting trips, taking out a ghost here, a ghoul there and you even had your first vampire kill. Of course, Dean had hovered behind you the entire time, but he was getting better about trying to not hold you back. You had already gotten up for the day, showered and started a load of laundry for everyone by the time you made it to the kitchen for some coffee. You quickly poured yourself a cup and headed to the library to chat with Sam, who was engrossed in a news article on his laptop. 

  
“Hey Big Bird,” you greeted him with a pat on the back, “How’s it going this morning?”

  
“Not too bad geek, I think I may have found a case here. Dean is on the phone with Cas, but I’m gonna bring it up to him when he gets done talking.”

  
Cas was spending more time at the bunker and, despite your best efforts, you had failed at pulling any more information out of him. He was in New Mexico now, following up on a lead about Kelly Kline. 

  
Sam suddenly noticed your shirt, “‘_Luke’s_’? What is that some coffee shop or something back in your world?” 

  
You bit your lip as you smiled, “Something like that yeah. It’s a nice little diner in this town called Stars Hollow, ever heard of it?”

  
He shook his head, “Nope, can’t say that I have.”

Before you could explain further, Dean came marching into the library. He was dressed in his usual jeans and a black t-shirt and had chosen a stripped flannel of various shades of grey to complete the outfit. When he spotted you, he made a beeline towards you and gave you a kiss that was quick, but still sent shivers up and down your spine. He smiled wide, “Morning sweetheart.”

  
“_Dear Lord, will I ever get used to this man’s touch?_”

  
“Morning to you too. Sam said you were on the phone with our own personal guardian angel. How’s he doing?”

  
Dean backed up to lean against one of the library’s tables, “Frustrated. Kelly Kline is still in the wind. No trace.”

  
Sam sighed, “Great.”

  
You felt so bad for Cas, spending all that time and energy running around looking for Kelly, but you knew it’d all be worth it in the end. You held up your cup of coffee to Dean, silently offering him a drink. He nodded and gave you a wink before taking the cup from your hand. You turned and leaned your back against his chest as he took a long swig of your coffee. 

Dean wrapped an arm around your waist, “He has no idea when Lucifer’s kid is gonna pop, if it hasn’t already.”

  
Sam absentmindedly scratched his head, “So, basically we got nothin’.”

  
“Basically,” Dean replied, handing the cup back to you. 

  
Sam pointed to the article on his laptop, “All right. Well, we do have this other thing.”

  
Dean leaned his head down to rest on your shoulder and when he spoke, his deep voice stirred butterflies in your stomach, “What other thing?”

  
“Check it out. Museum in Des Moines, Iowa. A guys’ body was found in the parking lot. A teacher. His tongue had been ripped out,” Sam answered. 

  
“What, that didn’t kill him,” Dean stated matter of factly. 

  
Sam continued, “No, but having his internal organs crushed, did. Um, no obvious damage to the torso, no point of entry.”

  
“You thinkin’ witch?” Dean asked. 

  
“Maybe,” Sam replied with a shrug of his shoulders, “I mean, he was seen alive just a couple of hours earlier, leading a student tour of the museum.”

  
“Does it happens to say what exhibits are at the museum or what they’re working on for new displays?” you chimed in.

  
Sam started typing away on his computer, “Give me one sec and I’ll see.”

  
“Think you’re onto something babe?” Dean asked, squeezing you closer to his chest. 

  
“Maybe. See if it says anything about a ship called ‘_The Star_’, Samuel,” you ordered. 

  
Sam shook his head, “It’s Sam.”

  
Dean held up his free hand to give you a high five and when you did, he kept ahold of your hand long enough to give it a kiss before releasing you. 

  
“Hey, maybe mom will want to come on this one. We haven’t seen her in a little bit,” Dean suggested. 

  
“She’s busy hunting with the Men of Letters. I remember you all tried to invite her, if this is the case I’m thinking of. She’s melting rugaru brains,” you replied. 

  
Dean turned his head to look at you, “Do what now? Melting . . . Rugaru brains?”

  
“The British Men of Letters are assholes, but they do have cool toys,” you relinquished. 

  
“How do you remember all this?” Dean asked. 

  
You answered sheepishly, “Well, this season happened to be my favorite, so I remember a lot of details.”

  
He kissed your neck, “Sure you just weren’t looking at this pretty face?”

  
You let out a small moan of approval at his touch, “Well, that didn’t hurt. But, it was so cool to see your mother back in your lives and, I don’t know, I just really enjoyed watching it. I mean, when somebody kills Hitler, how can you not want to watch that over and over again.” 

Dean nodded his head, “It makes sense.”

  
Sam finally joined back into the conversation, “Okay, yeah looks like they have a few new traveling exhibits they’re working on and one of them is the wreckage from a ship called ‘_The Star_’.

  
Dean sat up straight, “W-wait a minute. I know something about something, about that ship.”

  
Sam went on to read the description of the upcoming exhibit, “It says here that the ship sunk in a storm off the New England coast in 1723. Uh, it was headed to the New World from Leith, Scotland.”

  
“Bells going off in your head Dean?” you asked with a knowing smile. 

  
“Gavin MacLeod?” Dean asked.

  
“Ding! Ding! Ding! One point for the older Winchester brother,” you replied playfully. 

  
“Crowley’s kid?” Sam questioned, turning around in his chair to face the two of you. 

  
“Yep. And it’s not a witch. It’s a vengeful spirit. You see, when Abbadon unexpectedly kidnapped him and brought him to our time . . . Your time?” You wondered aloud in confusion, “Anyway he had a fiancé, uh I think her name was Fiona. She wanted to come to America with him, but he wanted her stay behind and stay safe. She went to his house that night to try and convince him one more time, but he was gone and she thought that he had already boarded the ship. So, she went after him, snuck aboard the ship and hid until it was too far out for them to turn back and then went looking for Gavin.”

  
“And she didn’t find him and died when the ship sank, right?” Sam asked. 

  
“Ok, so she died pissed and heartbroken and now her pantaloons are in a twist, so she’s vengeful,” Dean concluded. 

  
“There’s more to it than that. See, the rest of the crew weren’t too happy about her sneaking aboard. They mocked her, punished her and um, abused her in every way that a woman could possibly be abused.”

  
Sam was shocked and you heard Dean whisper, “Wow,” from behind as he pulled you in even closer. 

  
“Yeah, it wasn’t pretty. There was a teacher on board the ship who basically said she deserved it for the way she threw herself at Gavin, so she’s got some pent up resentment against all teachers now. Her spirit is attached to a locket Gavin gave her that was recovered with the ship’s wreckage.”

  
“Well, we can’t burn her bones, they’re at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean,” Dean said softly.

  
“We could burn the locket, but she could be tethered to something else on the ship,” Sam noted. 

  
“Well, you were able to figure out a solution and it’s one that even saves everyone that Fiona has already killed,” you said optimistically. 

  
“Care to share with the class, princess?” Dean asked. 

  
You turned your head and looked at Dean, “Why sure, Mr. Winchester, but first, we’re gonna need to make a call.”

  
He licked his lips when you referred to him as “Mr. Winchester”, “Who’s help do we need?”

  
“I don’t know if she will help us after what happened a few weeks ago, but, we’re gonna need Rowena,” you answered. 

  
Dean rolled his eyes, “Great, just fan-freaking-tastic.”

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
Somehow, your brother had convinced Rowena to come to the bunker for a meeting. You were sure she was still severely pissed after your last encounter, but so what? After all, she didn’t hold up her end of the bargain in that deal, but it had turned out to be one of the best failures in your life. It was early afternoon the next day and you and your girl were seated on one side of one of the library tables. She was leaning on your shoulder, allowing you to wrap an arm around her back, and her hand that closest to you was resting on your knee. You heard the bunker’s door open and close, signaling that Sam had retrieved Rowena from her cab. 

  
You could feel the tension in the room rise as she made her way over to sit across from you while Sam took the seat beside her. She smiled smugly when she saw you and your girl were cuddled up close to one another, but you kept a straight face. 

  
Rowena asked, “So, now that I’m here, care to fill me in on the details?”

  
Sam talked to her for a few minutes, explaining about the teacher deaths that had taken place and how you all would need her help in finding Gavin. 

  
Rowena rolled her eyes, “Your little story’s _fascinating_, but you said there was something in it for me?

  
Sam replied, “We know that the killer is a ghost and we need further intel on the vessel it was traveling on.”

  
Rowena scoffed, “Get a library card. You still owe me from Arkansas and you,” she said as she stared daggers at you and your girl, “Owe me for that little return to sender spell you had me perform. Seems like you two have made up from that. You shouldn’t have let him off so easy dearie. You gotta make men work for it.”

  
You felt (Y/N) rub your knee, “Oh, believe me Rowena, he did do a lot of work to apologize for what he did.”

  
Sam mumbled, “I bet he did.”

You reached over and punched Sam in the shoulder just as Rowena started to get up from her chair. However, Sam quickly grabbed her arm. He looked her in the eye, no sign of laughter across his face and ordered, “Sit down.” Rowena took a few seconds, but eventually obliged and took her seat once more. 

  
Sam sighed, “We know of a guy who has firsthand knowledge of ‘_The Star_’, the vessel that the ghost was on.”

  
Rowena looked bored, “So?”

  
You spoke up, “So, if you find him, we actually do have something that you’ll like. Like, _really_ like. 

  
(Y/N) sweetened the pot, “Plus, it’ll give you a chance to make your own son a little more miserable, which should be an added bonus.”

  
Now that definitely piqued Rowena’s interest. She smiled with curiosity, “Who is this eyewitness?

  
Rowena was able to quickly track down Gavin’s location and phone number, allowing you to call him and make up a lie about his father being sick, in order to get him to the bunker. He said he’d jump on a bus as soon as possible and be there in a few hours. During the time you had before Gavin would arrive, your girl had managed to convince you that she needed to run out by herself for a few errands. You tried to convince her to let you go with her or at least tell you where she was going, but once she called you “Winchester” you knew she had made up her mind about being alone. She returned, mischief in her eyes, just as Gavin called to say he was about thirty minutes out from the bus station. 

  
Everyone loaded up into the Impala and headed out to pick up the Scotsman. You and Sam decided to greet Gavin first while Rowena and your girl waited in the backseat. Soon enough, his bus pulled in and you saw him come walking off the bus in a dark blue overcoat, carrying an oversized canvas bag on his left shoulder. 

  
You pointed to him, “There he is.”

  
Sam called out, “Hey Gavin, good to see ya. How’s life in the twenty first century treatin’ ya?

  
Gavin looked sick with worry, “Oh, fine. Where’s my father then.”

  
You directed him towards the car, “Walk with us Gavin.”

  
He became a little more impatient, “How sick is he?”

  
Sam answered nervously, “About that . . . We might’ve exaggerated a little bit.”

  
You decided to cut through the bullshit, “Lied. We lied.”

  
Gavin looked appalled and Sam tried to explain, “Okay, well we knew you wouldn’t come if it was just us.”

  
“We need your help Gavin,” you added. 

  
Gavin looked around and practically screamed at a passing stranger, “‘Help’? Help!”

  
Sam put a hand on his shoulder and waved the stranger off, “Nah, we’re fine. Um, just hear us out, please.”

  
“How did you find . . . What are you going to do to me?” Gavin asked. 

  
“We just want to ask you a few questions about ‘_The Star_’ and your fiancée,” you answered. 

  
Gavin was taken aback, “‘_The Star’_? That was my ship. The one I was supposed to die on. And, my fiancée, my Fiona, what do you need to know about her. What’s wrong?”

  
You replied, “Yeah, we know all about both of them, but there’s more to the story.”

  
By this time, the three of you had made it back to Baby. Sam went to open the back door to allow Rowena out of the car, “But first, we figured there’s someone you’d want to meet.”

  
Rowena stepped out of the car and smiled brightly, “Hello Gavin. You look just like my father when he was young.”

  
Gavin looked at her, confused while Sam made introductions, “Gavin, meet Rowena. Your grandmother.”

  
Gavin was in disbelief, “My grandmother? That’s preposterous. She couldn’t be alive.”

  
You clicked your tongue, “Well, technically dude, neither can you.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You, Gavin and Rowena sat in the back of the Impala as Dean drove through town and headed back to the bunker. Understandably, Gavin was confused by your presence, “Well, hello. And who might you be?”

  
You reached out to shake his hand, “Hi Gavin, my name is (Y/N).”

  
He tentatively reached out and shook your hand, “And what are you doing here, exactly?”

  
Rowena piped in from Gavin’s other side, “She is from another reality and already knows what’s going to happen for the next few years. Plus, she and the short one there are sweet on each other.”

  
“Rowena!” you chastised.

  
She smiled, “What? It’s not like you were going to tell the boy the truth. He’s my grandson and I will not lie to him.”

  
You and the Winchesters all scoffed at this and Gavin suddenly seemed very interested in quizzing you, “Another reality. Well, blimey! How do you know what’s going to happen? What’s going on with my Fiona?”

  
After you gave Rowena one more death stare, you turned your attention to Gavin, “It doesn’t matter how I know, I just do.” You took a deep breath before continuing, “Gavin, what I’m about to tell you is not going to be good news, so I need you try to do your best to process everything and then you can ask me any questions when I’m done.”

  
Gavin nodded his head, “Okay, I’m listening.”

  
“But, whatever you do, don’t call your father. He won’t understand what needs to be done and he will only cause trouble for the rest of us,” you warned. 

  
“Let’s hear what you have to say first,” Gavin replied. 

  
During the trip back, you went on to explain Fiona’s story for a third time and tried to be as delicate as possible when Gavin wanted more details about what exactly the crew did to his fiancée when they found out she had snuck aboard the ‘_The Star_’. 

  
Gavin was silent after you finished telling him everything and didn’t say another word until all of you were settled in the library. Dean poured him a drink, which he quickly knocked back. 

  
“My dear boy, are you okay?” Rowena asked from his side. 

  
“No I’m not okay!” Gavin snapped, “My Fiona was abused, tortured. And now, she’s a ghost and killing people. That’s not like her. She wouldn’t do that!”

  
Dean shrugged his shoulders, “Well, when bad stuff happens to you, sometimes it’s hard to let go and move on.” You reached over and patted Dean’s arm. He gave you a side smile and took your hand in his, squeezing gently. 

  
Sam spoke from the head of the table where he had pulled up an extra chair, “Gavin, there is a way we can fix this. If you’re willing to make a sacrifice.”

  
“Anything, I’ll do anything to help my Fiona. What do I have to do?” Gavin replied desperately. 

  
“You have to go back. Back to your own time,” you answered. 

  
His jaw went slack, “Back? But that means . . .”

  
“You’ll die. Yeah, not the most fun solution, but it is the best,” you replied. 

  
Rowena nodded, “I’m so sorry my dear.”

  
Gavin looked you in the eyes, “If I do this, will Fiona no longer be a vengeful spirit?”

  
“That’s right,” you confirmed, “She can go with you on the ship and you two can be happy and together forever.”

  
Gavin poured himself another drink from the bottle that Dean had left sitting on the table. He quickly drank it before answering, “Ok then, I’ll do it.”

  
Rowena managed to tweak the spell that Henry Winchester and Abbadon had used to travel through time. However, she refused to be there when Gavin actually left. After giving the spell to Sam, she bid goodbye to her grandson and Dean escorted her outside to a waiting cab, whispering in your ear before he left, “No way I’m trusting her to just walk out of here alone without snooping around.”

  
When Dean returned to the library, you were grinding up the last bit of herbs with a mortar and pestle while Sam added in an angel feather. 

  
“That soup yet?” Dean asked while coming behind, wrapping his arms around your middle and giving you quick peck on the top of your head. 

  
You smiled and added the ground mixture to the concoction before you, “Yeah, it’s almost ready. We just need a little blood from Gavin, right Sam?”

  
Sam nodded while picking up a knife from the table. He turned to Gavin, “You ready?”

  
The Scotsman held out his arm without hesitation and Sam sliced his hand. The crimson liquid flowed freely into the bowel, mixing with the other ingredients as Gavin forcefully squeezed his hand into a fist. Dean released you and pulled out a bandana from his back pocket, offering it to Gavin to cover his cut. 

  
“You ready to do this Gavin?” Dean asked. 

  
Gavin wrapped the bandana around his hand and looked to you, “You’re positive this will work?”

  
You sighed and tried to give him a reassuring smile, “Well, technically we’ve never done this before. But if everything goes like I’ve seen it, then yes it will work smoothly.

  
Sam finished up mixing the ingredients together and made his way over to the entryway of the library. He crouched down and began drawing the sigil on the lower wall. Dean stood beside you and you snaked an arm around on his waist, letting your hand rest on his hip. He mimicked your embrace and pulled you in close to his side. 

  
Sam finished the drawing, “All right. I think that’s it.”

  
Gavin rubbed the remaining blood from his hand with Dean’s bandana and tossed it on the library table before going to stand in the entryway. Sam picked up the spellbook off the table behind you and handed it to you, “Here. You got us this far, why don’t you finish it up.”

  
You unwrapped your arm from Dean to accept the book, but he continued to hold you close to him. You looked at Sam in shock, “Really? Why Sam, I didn’t know you could be so nice.” 

  
Sam squeezed your shoulder and gave you a small smile as Dean looked to Gavin, “This is a tough one.”

“You’re a god guy, Gavin. Thank you,” Sam added. 

  
Gavin’s eyes were shiny with tears that he was holding back. He exhaled sharply, “Hopefully, this is all for the best.”

  
Dean nudged you with his hip, “All right. Beam him up, Scotty.”

  
You gave Gavin a quick wink before looking down at the incantation, “Kah-nee-lah, poo-goh, kah-nee-lah.”

  
The sigil shined with a brilliantly golden light and suddenly, Fiona appeared beside Gavin. You could see any insecurities and doubts fade away when he turned and saw her. He grabbed her hands and they both emanated the same light coming from the sigil. After a few seconds, they dissipated into a puff of smoke. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

Sam was typing away on his computer at the war room table while your girl cleaned up the remnants of the spell you all had just used to send Gavin back to his time. Sam leaned in close to his screen, “Well, it looks like none of those murders happened. It worked. No Fiona equals no angry ghost. Looks like history is back on track.”

  
She came sauntering over to you and wrapped her arms around your neck, “Well, you gonna tell me?”

  
“Tell you what?” You asked as you circled your arms around her back.

  
“You know damn well what. Those three little words you refuse to tell me.”

  
You winked at her, “Nope. It’s about pride and principle now. Never gonna happen, doll.”

  
“You’re a stubborn jackass you know that?” 

  
“I could’ve told you that, (Y/N),” Sam stated from his seat. 

  
You leaned down and started to kiss her before she could reply. When you pulled back, she just shook her head, “All right, heathen. I can go get dinner started. Any special requests?”

  
Before you could answer, you heard the bunker door open and were surprised to see your mother come strolling in. She made her way down form the crow’s nest and walked to stand on the other side of the war room table. 

  
Sam’s face immediately lit up, “Hey mom, we missed you. Glad you’re back.”

  
Mary grinned and sat a six pack and a fast food bag down on the table, “Burgers. Beer.”

  
You and your girl both went to reach for the bag of food at the same time. She let you grab a burger out first, “Thanks Mary. It’s good to see you. I know these two knuckleheads love it when you drop by.”

  
You elbowed her gently in her side, “Don’t give all our secrets away, princess.”

  
Mary shrugged her shoulders, “I had a break and thought I’d stop in. Feel like putting up with your mom for a few nights?”

  
“Absolutely. You never have to ask mom,” Sam replied instantaneously. 

  
After dinner, you all decided to have game night. You were setting up ‘_Mouse Trap’_ in the library when you noticed your mother and (Y/N) standing in the war room, whispering and laughing while looking in your direction. 

  
“What are you two talking about over there?” you called out. 

  
Mary laughed and your girl waved a hand in a “shooing” motion at you, “Never you mind. You don’t get to know about everything we discuss. 

  
The rest of the night was pretty uneventful and you had enjoyed teaching your girl how to play one of your favorite board games. You had been shocked when she said she never played it before. That night, you beat her to bed and were sitting against the headboard when she came strutting inside your room. She slipped off her bra and jeans before heading to her drawer to pull out a pair of pajama pants. Her plain grey t-shirt barely covered her ass and you caught a glimpse of her black panties. 

  
She was about to put on a pair of pajama pants when you offered, “You could just leave the pants off you know?”

  
She whipped her head around, “Oh could I? What if I get cold?”

  
“I guess we’d just have to get closer then,” you replied with a wink. 

  
She stuffed the pajamas back into the drawer and shut it, “All right then, since I have someone who’s willing to keep me warm I’ll forgo the pants for tonight.”

  
She slowly made her way over to the bed and you pulled back the covers for her. She snuggled up close to you, but your breath was taken away when she pressed her cold feet against your legs. She giggled at your response, “Still okay with me not wearing any pants.”

  
Your body quickly adjusted to the temperature change, “Totally worth it.”

  
The two of you made out lazily for a few minutes and she finally insisted on turning out the light and heading to bed when you yawned for the third time. She patted your cheek, “Maybe we’ll continue in the morning.”

  
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, princess,” you warned, pulling her in so her head was tucked up underneath your chin

  
“Oh, I won’t Dean. Night.”

  
“Night, princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of a short chapter, but I didn’t want to just skip over this case or episode. The next chapter has been one I’ve been looking forward to and will be about twice as long as this one, so bear with me while I edit it and get it up to publishing status.  
Comments and kudos truly make my day and I love hearing everyone’s feedback and theories about where the story is going. Thanks for continuing to enjoy the ride with me! 😘


	33. Made in ‘79

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Dean’s birthday today and you decide to make it another special day for him.

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
The next morning, it was the the faintest *_clicking_* sounds that arose you from your slumber. You wiped your eyes and were caught off guard by her kneeling down beside your side of the bed, snapping pictures with the camera you and Sam got her for Christmas. 

  
“Didn’t know I had my own, personal stalker,” you mumbled, trying to shake the last bits of sleep out of your system. 

  
Her smile was a mile wide, “Well, I gotta get a picture of the birthday boy.”

  
“_Oh shit, is that today?_”

  
“It’s no big deal. Just another year old,” you replied nonchalantly. 

  
She stood up and went to retrieve something from your desk. You head another *_clicking_* sound and were taken aback when she turned around. She carried a mini pie with a single lit candle over towards you. She scooted you over so she could sit on the edge of the bed and started to sing, “_Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Dean. Happy Birthday to you._”

  
You looked back and forth between the pie and her and, even though your initial reaction was to reject any focused attention on yourself, you couldn’t help but to feel appreciative of the gesture. When you didn’t blow out the candles, she spoke up, “Well, make a wish Dean.”

  
You thought of a wish and blew out the candle. She handed you a fork to eat the pie, but instead you simply removed the candle and took a bite directly out of, “Mmmmm, cherry. One of my favorites, sweetheart.”

  
“I know. Now, for presents!” she said a little too enthusiastically. 

  
“You really didn’t have to do all of this,” you replied, taking another big bite of your first birthday treat.

  
“I wanted to Dean. So, get used to it because I have a fun filled day of surprises waiting for you,” She said as she reached under your bed and pulled out a gift bag. She bit her lip, “Okay, there’s two things in there and you need to open them in order. Don’t worry, I know I went overboard at Christmas, so I’ve made things a little simpler today.”

  
You finished your pie, wiped your hands off on your shirt and reached into the bag to grab a small item wrapped in white tissue paper. You ripped it open and admired the small object. It was a simple, plastic, rectangular shaped picture frame keychain. On one side, was one of the cherished pictures you had of you, your mother and Sammy when you were just a child. On the other side was a copy of the photo with the three of you plus your girl from Christmas. You turned the object over in your hand several times, admiring the photos. 

  
She furrowed her eyebrows and began to ramble “I hope it’s okay that I got the picture from your drawer. I was very careful with it. If you don’t want to put it on your key ring you don’t have to. I just thought you might like having a picture of your family with you wherever you went. It’s stupid, you don’t have to say you like it. I don’t know what I was . . .”

  
You held up a hand to her lips, “It’s awesome. You’re awesome. And it’s definitely going on my keys. I don’t know how you can top this.”

  
Her cheeks flushed, “Oh, but I think I can. Open the next one.”

  
You sat the keychain down on your bedside table before pulling out the next item. It was a little bigger, but wrapped in the same tissue paper. You tore it open and stared in confusion at the three plastic, wedge shaped items, “Uh . . . What are these?”

  
She took them from you and walked over to the door. She bent down and shoved them up underneath the door, “These are doorstoppers.”

  
You felt the blood drain from your head and rush to your cock, “And why would I need those?”

  
She turned and came back to the bed. However, instead of sitting on the edge, she straddled your torso, “Because I don’t want anyone coming in and interrupting me.”

  
“What do you have planned?” you asked with curiosity. 

  
She licked her lips and pressed her ass down onto your stiffening cock. You moaned and she smiled with satisfaction before leaning in close and whispering, “It’s my turn to taste you Dean.”

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“It’s my turn to taste you Dean,” you whispered in his ear before gently tugging the soft flesh in between his teeth. 

  
You leaned back and waited for his response. You could see he was trying to remain cool and calm, but when you heard his breath hitch and saw his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, you knew that that façade would soon break. 

  
He placed his hands on your hips, “You know, just because it’s my birthday, doesn’t mean you have to do that. I certainly wasn’t expecting it.”

  
You reached down and pulled him up by his shirt until he was sitting chest to chest with you, “I want to. God, I’ve wanted to for so long Dean and I think this is the perfect occasion.”

  
He raised an eyebrow, “Really, you want to?”

  
You lowered your hands and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, tugging it over his head before answering, “Yes Dean, why is that so hard to believe?”

  
“It’s just, most women don’t want to give blowjobs.”

  
You leaned forward and nipped at the spot where his beautifully square jaw met his right ear. You planted little kisses all along his jawline. The whole time, you were slightly rubbing your ass back and forth across his erection that you could feel growing by the second. His fingers lightly dug into your hips and you could hear his breathing become shallower. When you had kissed all the way across to his other ear you pulled back and stilled your movements, “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not like most women.”

  
“You sure are fucking not,” was all Dean managed to reply. 

  
You placed your hands on his shoulders and urged him to lay back. He complied, leaning against the headboard, his forest green eyes locked on yours. You gently massaged his shoulders and begin to kiss your way down his soft, but firm torso as his hands moved up to rest on your thighs. You circled your tongue around his right nippled several times before gently tugging the sensitive bud with your teeth, earning you a moan from the Greek God beneath you. You kissed and nipped across his chest to repeat the process with his other nipple. 

  
Dean moaned your name, unconsciously thrusting up against your ass. You could feel the length of him and were slightly intimated, but also extremely excited, about seeing his dick in the flesh for the first time. You sat up straight and rolled your hips back and forth, “Having a good birthday so far, Dean?”

  
His eyes were half hooded as he looked at you and nodded his head. You bit your lip, “I mean, if you really don’t like your gifts, I could stop,” you teased as you quit moving atop of him. 

  
He groaned, “No, please. Don’t.”

  
“Don’t what?” you asked innocently as you raked your nails up and down his chest. 

  
“Don’t stop.”

  
You started to scoot back along his legs and closer to the end of the bed, “Well, whatever the birthday boy wants, he gets.”

  
You leaned down and kissed along the strip of flesh above the hemline of his boxers, admiring his happy trail that led to the treasure you had fantasized about for so long. Dean had scooted down the bed as well and was now laying his head down on his pillow. You looked up and smiled as you hooked your hands underneath his sweatpants and boxers, letting your fingers briefly dance back and forth across his skin. Slowly, ever so slowly, you pulled his clothes down just enough to release his hard cock into your view. 

  
You knew, just knew in your soul, that he would be impressive, but nothing could prepare you for how gloriously thick and long he actually was. The tip was already reddened and leaking precum. You were pretty sure you audibly gasped, because Dean shot you a smug smile and said, “See, wasn’t lying about the ten inch hero, babe.”

  
  


You took one hand and wrapped it around his shaft, gently squeezing him before beginning to stroke up and down. His jaw went slack and he closed his eyes to focus on the sensations you were creating with your touch. You twisted your hand as you stroked him at a leisurely pace, making sure to avoid the tip, “What was that Dean?”

  
He simply shook his head, but you insisted he answer, “Come on Dean, were you saying something? Too distracted by something else now?”

  
He nodded his head and you continued to enjoy the feel of his stiff cock in your hand. You had barely touched the man and he already looked absolutely wrecked. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, his breathing was rough and ragged and his forehead was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. 

  
You lowered yourself down and kissed him along his length, starting at the base and working your way to the top. Again, you avoided making any contact with the head of his cock. You repeated the process, but opted to give him kitten licks this time. Meanwhile, your other hand was busy massaging his balls. He must’ve liked what you were doing, because you could’ve swore you heard him whine. 

  
You twisted and turned your hand as you continued to stroke your hand along his impressive length for several long minutes. Finally, you took the other hand that was giving attention to his balls and rubbed the tip of your index finger quickly back and forth along the slit in the tip of his cock. 

His hips jerked and he groaned deep in his chest. You only did this for a few seconds, which obviously seemed to frustrate him. He huffed in a gruff voice, “Son of a bitch, (Y/N).”

  
“Something wrong?”

  
“You’re such a tease,” he replied breathily. 

  
“Just trying to make it a memorable experience birthday boy.”

  
His eyes were still closed, but you wanted him to look at you for this next part. You stopped stroking him and ordered, “Dean, open your eyes for me.”

  
He did so and you were taken aback by how bright his green eyes were. Even though the color was mesmerizing, there was a restrained power lurking underneath. You knew he was doing everything to just lay there and take what you were willing to give him. 

  
You ran your tongue along your teeth, “I want you to see this next part, Dean.” You licked your lips and lowered your head, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock and began to flick your tongue back and forth across his slit, tasting him for the first time. He wasn’t able to maintain eye contact for more than a few seconds after that. His head dropped back against the pillow and he groaned, “Holy fuckarooni, (Y/N)!”

  
You smiled in satisfaction before moving your head down his shaft, taking in an inch before sucking in your cheeks and moving your head back towards his tip. You repeated the process several times, making your way down his entire length until, somehow, you had swallowed all of him. You could feel him in the back of your throat and you swallowed, letting your throat muscles massage his head. A string of profanities flowed from his mouth and he finally reached out his hands to brush his knuckles along your cheek. 

  
When you couldn’t hold your breath any longer, you pulled off of him and took in a lungful of air. Meanwhile, you continued to stroke him, picking up the pace and squeezing him harder. You could tell he was getting close to his release, so you took him in your mouth once again and focused on the head, giving him exactly what he wanted. His hands were back at his side, curled into white knuckling fists. 

  
You stopped moving, leading him to pop his eyes wide open. You smiled around his dick and reached for his hand. He was confused as you took it and placed it on your head. You held yourself in place, until you felt him snatch a handful of hair in order to force your mouth further down his dick. Soon enough, he got the hint and you moaned when you felt his other hand sharply grip your hair. You allowed him to take control of the situation and pump as fast as he wanted to, up and into your welcoming mouth. His thrusting started to become erratic, “Fuck, doll. I’m close. If you want to pull back . . . You gotta . . . Ugh . . . You gotta . . .”

  
You planted your hands firmly on his hips, indicating you weren’t going anywhere. His hands tightened in your hair and he slammed up into your mouth, almost choking you, as he came long and hard down your throat. He called out your name, “Fuck, (Y/N)!” as he buried himself inside your mouth. You swallowed greedily, relishing in the taste and scent of him. After a few moments, his hands released you and you took the opportunity to gently stroke his softening cock. He twitched several times and you tenderly licked away any remaining semen from his sensitive head before tucking his cock safely back into his boxers and sweatpants. 

  
You sat straight up and licked your lips, “You taste fucking delicious too, Dean.”

  
His breathing had finally retuned to normal and he smiled lazily at you. Suddenly, he sat up and crashed his lips onto yours. He forcefully shoved his tongue in your mouth, not caring that his essence was still lingering on your lips and tongue. You made out for several minutes like this before finally breaking away. He rested his forehead on yours, “That, was the best birthday gift ever.”

  
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you replied, blushing. 

  
He gave you another small kiss, “No really. That was awesome.”

  
“Well, the day is still young. And I’ve got more surprises waiting for you. First, how about some eggs and bacon for breakfast?”

  
He reached down and squeezed your ass, “Hell yeah!”

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“_Talk about starting off your day with a bang,_” you thought to yourself as you drove down the road with your girl by your side. After a simple breakfast with the rest of your family, she informed you that she would like to spend the morning and early afternoon with you and your brother was going to get some time this evening while she and your mother prepared dinner. You thought about it and decided to take her somewhere that you hadn’t been to in a long time. The two of you got dressed and you roared with laughter when you noticed her shirt. 

  
“Hey you got it!” you proclaimed with excitement when you noticed that her top said, “_My Dean Killed Hitler_”. 

  
“Of course I did. Not sure what kind of looks I’ll get, but who cares. It’s a fun little inside joke.”

  
“Well, in that case, I better wear mine too” you said before completing your outfit with a black jacket. 

  
The new gift she got you *_pinged_* against your keys every once in a while whenever the Impala hit a bump or went around a curve. You gave her a side glance and saw her smile whenever the noise echoed throughout Baby. 

  
“So, do I get to know where we’re going?” she asked. 

  
“Nope. You already know enough about today, this is going to be my little surprise for you.”

  
“Fine,” she sighed and gave a playful roll of her eyes. 

  
Fifteen minutes later you pulled into the parking lot of your destination. You put Baby in park and turned off the ignition. She leaned forward in her seat and laughed, “You know, I’m not even that surprised,” she said when she eyed the location. It was too bright in the early daylight to see, but you knew that the lights were flashing on and off on the sign that said “_GlowGolf_”. 

  
“Really?” You asked in shock. 

  
“Yeah, I remember once you went to putt putt golf with Claire and said you and Sam hadn’t been in a long time.”

  
“Yeah, Sam and I used to go whenever we had some free time on the road. Don’t get a lot of that now, but this place has black lights, beer and some of the best hot dogs around. Ready?”

  
“As I’ll ever be with you, Dean,” She replied with a radiant smile. 

  
The two of you made your way in and you couldn’t help but to shake your head when she picked out a blue ball and gave you a little wink. You got yourself a beer and you all headed towards the first hole. Since the course had just barely opened, you practically had the whole place to yourself. You allowed her to go first, and made your way behind her when she started to line up her first shot. 

  
You pressed your pelvis against her ass and wrapped your arms around her to place your hands atop of hers on her putter. You bent down and whispered softly in her ear, “See, it’s all about your form. You gotta make sure you your body is in the right position. Tight, yet relaxed.”

  
You felt her shiver momentarily, but then she pushed back and rubbed her ass into you, “Is that so?”

  
You moaned into her neck, “Yeah babe.”

  
“Dean, if you act like this, we’ll never make it through all eighteen holes without getting kicked out.”

  
You nipped at her ear, “Eh, it’ll totally be worth it.”

  
She swayed her hips back and forth a little, “I think you’re just scared of a little competition. Trying to distract me from my first shot?”

  
“Now, would I do that?” you asked innocently. 

  
She turned her head and just started at you, causing you to smirk. You leaned forward and gave her a kiss before prying yourself away from her, “All right, no distractions. Game on, babe.”

  
Throughout the first half of the course, you had a couple of beers and the two of you chit chatted, continuing to get to know one another better and better. You were stunned to learn that she had never been on an airplane and she didn’t harass you too much about your fear of flying. On the tenth hole you got a hole-in-one. 

  
You pumped your fist in the air, “It’s in the hole! It’s in the hole!”

  
She chuckled, “That’s what she said.”

  
You laughed at her joke, “Ha ha. No, it’s from ‘_Caddyshack_’.”

  
She gave you a blank stare.

  
You got real serious, “Bill Murray? It’s a classic!”

  
“Ooooh, yeah. I think I’ve seen it like one time maybe, but it’s been years and I didn’t pay much attention to it.”

  
You mimed someone stabbing you in the chest, “Babe, for someone that says they love movies, you are seriously lacking in your cinema education. Next you’re gonna say you’ve never seen a classic like ‘_Top Gun_’.”

  
Her eyes widened as she pursed her lips and looked away to avoid your gaze. 

  
“No!” you exclaimed. 

  
“Try not to think less of me.”

  
“I . . . I . . . Wow. That might just be a deal breaker,” you teased. 

  
“Well, I guess now isn’t the best time to mention I’ve never seen any of the “_Hatchet Man_” movies either?” she asked tentatively. 

  
“Are you kidding me right now?” you replied as you made your way over to wrap her up in your arms. 

  
“But, that one isn’t my fault. Those movies don’t exist in my world,” she said as she dropped her putter to place her hands on your shoulders. 

  
“Looks like we’re gonna have to have a movie marathon one day. I can’t take you out in public when you haven’t even seen ‘_All Saint’s Day_’. What will people think?” you asked with mock panic. 

  
“I would be okay with a marathon. Junk food, a bed and you with some good movies. Sounds like a date,” she smiled. 

  
“A date? Moving kind of fast aren’t you?” you taunted.

  
She wrapped a hand behind your neck and pulled you down for a kiss, “Shut up, idjit.”

  
Soon enough you were on the last hole. The game had been pretty close, but she would need a hole-in-one to beat you. She was taking a longer time than usual to line up her shot. You finished your third beer, “Come on, it won’t be so bad to lose to the birthday boy would it?”

  
“Shhhhh, I’m focusing here,” she replied sternly. 

  
“Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up,” you teased as she lined up her putter with her ball. 

  
She threw you a death stare before returning her focus to the task at hand. After a few practice swings, she finally took her shot. You both held your breath and the ball bounced around the barricades around the hole several times before finally teetering in. She jumped in the air and turned to point a finger at you, “It’s in the hole! It’s in the hole!!!”

  
Normally, you’d have been upset at losing, but she was so thrilled, that you felt like a winner too. You stuck out a hand to give her congratulations, “Nice win, princess.”

  
She shook your hand, “We’ll have to come back and have a rematch.”

  
“Oh, definitely,” you concurred as you tipped her chin up to give her a long, lingering kiss. 

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
After finishing up your round of putt putt golf, you and Dean had grabbed a quick lunch of hot dogs and chips at the snack court. You informed him that you needed to run by the grocery store to pick up ingredients for dinner and for whatever pie he wanted for dessert. He was perfectly happy with running the menial task, as long as it was with you. As the two of you neared Baby, he slid something into your hands. You looked down and saw it was the keys to the Impala. You forgot how to breathe as you stared between him and the keys in your hand. 

  
“Dean?! Are you saying . . .” but you were too excited to finish the question. 

  
“Since you won, I’ll let your drive her to the store. Sound like a fair prize?”

  
“You . . . You’re serious?”

  
“Just hurry up and get in before I change my mind,” he replied with a wink.

  
“_Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit! No way! No way this is happening!_”

  
You slid into the front seat and tenderly slid the keys into the ignition before turning the engine. Baby roared to life and you gripped the steering wheel tightly. You gently pressed down on the gas a couple of times, reveling in the roar, before sliding her into gear and pulling out of the parking lot. 

  
“All right Evil Knievel, take it easy. Don’t make me regret it,” he teased. 

  
You pulled out onto the road and patted the dashboard, “Don’t worry, I’ll treat her good.”

  
You were too focused on the road that you didn’t even mind when Dean put in a cassette tape of his choosing. Once you were on a long stretch of road, he let you open her up and man, did she feel good under your control. All too soon, you were at your next destination and it was time to turn the keys back over to Dean. You pulled into a parking spot at the back of the store and turned off the car. You leaned over and gave Dean a hard kiss that took his breath away. 

  
When you were finished, you beamed ear to ear, “Geez, give a guy a good blowjob and beat him at putt put and he just hands you the keys to his car.”

  
He cupped your chin and ran his thumb back and forth along your bottom lip and gave you one of his panty dropping smiles , “Well, the act fits the reward then.”

  
You puckered your lips and kissed his thumb, causing him to groan deep in his chest. “Come on stud,” you urged as you started to get out of the car, “We better get this stuff so you can get back and have some brotherly time with Sam.”

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
The two of you made quick work gathering ingredients for your birthday supper and she didn’t even mind when you requested pecan pie and her “Frankenstein” concoction of bananas and toffee. Once again, you mostly followed her around the store, pushing the cart, while she procured everything you needed. There was a comfortable silence that neither of you felt obligated to fill with awkward chatter. 

  
Mostly, you thought about everything that had happened so far today, including her special gift from this morning. You weren’t lying when you said most girls didn’t like to give head, at least the one night stands and few short lived long term relationships you had been in. Sure, those women had gone down on you for a couple of minutes or on a special occasion, but this goddess in front of you, she had seemed to enjoy it as much as you did. Considering her proclivity towards all the nerd fandoms and the slow build up to a sexual relationship thus far, it had shocked the hell out of you the way she had taken her time and not rushed the process. 

  
You felt a finger tapping your forehead and noticed she was standing at your side, “Earth to Dean. Are you in there?”

  
“Oh, uh yeah what is it?”

  
“I asked if you needed any beer,” she said holding up a couple of six packs.

  
You shrugged your shoulders, “When do I not need beer?”

  
She put the items in the cart, “Fair point. Well, I think that’s everything. Sam’s already texted me asking when we’ll be back. We better hurry.”

  
“So, what exactly does my brother have planned for me tonight?” you asked as you started to make your way to the checkout line. 

  
She fell in step beside you, “Well, I really shouldn’t ruin the surprise, but what do you and Sam typically do for your birthday?”

  
“Beer, pool and . . . Strippers,” you replied with a playful wag of your eyebrows. 

  
“Well, then that’s what he’ll probably do. Although I have requested you all be back by nine for dinner.”

  
You stopped and grabbed her by the hand to turn her to face you. She was taken off guard, “What? Is something wrong? Did we forget something?”

  
“You did hear me say strippers, right? As in other naked women dancing?”

  
“Duh. I know what a stripper is, Dean.”

  
“And you don’t care. Not that I’m used to asking permission or anything, but . . .” you struggled to finish your sentence. Strip clubs basically made up about twenty percent of your personality, but since you’d found her, you hadn’t even thought about going to one. 

  
She placed a hand on your cheek, “Dean, I know who you are and what you like. I don’t care where or how you get your motor going, as long you bring the car home to my garage, I’m happy.”

  
“_No she did not just say that to me._”

  
You wrapped your hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for hard kiss, quickly slipping your tongue past her lips. She gasped in surprise, but quickly melted into your embrace. You had never been one for PDA, but after what she just said to you, you could give a shit about an audience right now. You kissed her until you absolutely had to come up for air and then leaned your forehead on hers while you caught your breath. 

  
Her eyes shone brightly, “I take it you liked that answer?”

  
You had no words; they never were your strongest feature. Instead you simply nodded your head and gave her another quick peck on the lips 

  
After checking out and loading the few bags of groceries into the car, you assumed your usual position in the driver’s seat and the two of you were quickly on your way back to the bunker. Suddenly, you had an idea, “Hey, we still got a little time before we have to be back, right?”

  
“Yeah . . .” she answered slowly, “Why?”

  
“I wanna show you something.”

  
“Well, you’re the driver, lead the way,” she replied as she scooted over towards you. You instinctively pulled one hand from the steering wheel and wrapped it around her shoulders. 

  
A few minutes later, you were pulling off a familiar side road just a few miles from the bunker and after another mile, pulled into a cleared field. You put Baby in park and turned off the ignition. The entire field was encircled by tall trees, which were usually vibrant green, but they were barren today since it was still winter. The grass was pale and void of its usual wildflowers, but it was still a quiet oasis with a great view of the sky. 

  
She sat up and took in the view, “What is this place?”

  
“I’m surprised you don’t recognize it.”

  
She shrugged her shoulders, “Sorry, maybe they don’t show this place enough on the show. Should I know where we are?”

  
“This is where Sammy and I come sometimes to unwind after a hunt. At night, you can have a great view of the sky and no one else every comes out here, at least that I’ve seen. Sometimes I’ll say I’m going for a beer run and I’ll stop by here to just think and relax. It’s . . .”

  
“Peaceful. Yeah, I see that,” she said, fishing your sentence. She looked through the windshield and saw the blue, Kansas sky above her. She took a few more minutes to take in her surroundings before looking back to you, “Thank you for bring me here Dean. I love it.”

  
You reached up your left hand and stroked your thumb along her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into your touch. 

  
“_I love you. Tell her. Come on, dude. Just blurt it out. Tell her. I love you. Don’t be a chicken shit for once. I. Love. You._”

  
She opened her eyes, “What you thinking about birthday boy? Your mouth is open like you wanna say something.”

  
“_Dude, tell her! I love you._”

  
You licked your lips, “I . . . I . . . I want my second slice of pie for the day.”

  
“_That’s it, go straight for the sex. Don’t tell her what you really wanna say!_”

  
“Oh?” She replied with a visible shiver. 

  
You moved in closer and pulled the lobe of her ear in between your teeth. You whispered, “Yeah, so get in the back seat and take off your pants.”

  
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she said as she slipped off her shoes and shoved her jeans off before climbing over the back seat. 

  
You watched as she leaned on the back passenger door, her legs spread so that one leg bent up against the back seat and the other dangling to the floor. She crooked a finger towards you, inviting you to join her. 

  
“Well someone is eager,” you chuckled.

  
“When you look at me like that and tell me to take my pants off, it’s hard not to obey,” she replied, her voice a little deeper than normal. 

  
“Good to know for future reference,” you responded before exiting the vehicle and coming around to open the back driver’s door. You knelt down on the grass and pulled her by her legs until they were hanging out of the car and her pussy was on the edge of the seat, still covered by her dark, red panties. She yelped in surprise, but didn’t resist you. 

  
You examined her underwear more closely and noticed little figures scattered across the fabric, “Are those little slices of pie?”

  
She covered her face with a hand, obviously embarrassed, “Yes, it was a little secret of mine. Wearing pie panties on your birthday. Guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

  
You hooked your thumbs underneath the waistband of either side of her panties and pulled them slowly down her legs, “Oh yes, yes it is, doll. Now, normally I take my time, but we’re on a time crunch, so this is gonna be a little faster than normal.”

  
“Whatever you want, birthday boy,” she replied breathily.

  
You slipped one finger past her folds and easily sank into her hot center. She arched her back, already dripping wet for you. You pumped back and forth slowly a few times before inserting another digit. She was still tight, but you were soon able to slide a third finger in. 

  
“Damn princess, you’re still so tight. Already so wet and ready for me.”

  
Her hands were busy playing in her hair and moving under her shirt to cup her breasts as she moaned loudly. 

  
“You like it when I touch you, like this?” you teased as you crooked your fingers inside of her. 

  
She gasped, “Fuck! Oh God, yes Dean. I do.”

  
You leaned in and flattened your tongue against her clit. She was dripping with arousal and tasted heavenly. She continued to writhe underneath you and started to meet you thrust for thrust as you pumped your fingers faster and faster into her pussy. You took her clit in your mouth and sucked hard, flicking your tongue earnestly back and forth across the sensitive area of flesh. 

  
“Holy Shit Dean,” she exclaimed as she reached down to run her fingers through your hair, “Oh, don’t stop. I’m almost there.”

  
You kept at your ministrations and after another minute or two of her moaning your name and lightly scraping her fingernails across your scalp, you felt her pussy clench down on your fingers and her legs tighten around your head. However, instead of letting up, you continued to move your fingers in and out of her dripping core and never let up on her clit. 

  
“Dean . . . What are you . . . I already came . . .” she questioned in between big gulps of air.

  
You removed your face from between her thighs just long enough to lick your lips and demand, “I want seconds. Come on, babe. Give me one more.” Before she could respond, you returned your mouth to her clit and sucked ravenously at it. 

  
Her breath was shaky as she mewed, “Fuck, Dean I don’t know if I can.”

  
But soon enough, you could feel her walls starting to flutter again and knew she was close. She pulled on your hair, sending pleasure straight to your cock, as she came even harder than the first time. She cried out in ecstasy and you relished in the primal sound you had pulled from your outwardly reserved girl. 

  
This time, you slowed down your thrusting and eased her down form her climax, finally giving her clit a reprieve from your mouth. After a few minutes, she stopped trembling and her breathing returned to normal. You had placed your chin on top of her leg and just watched her face as she came down from her high. 

  
Finally, she opened her eyes and smiled at you, “You’re really good at that, you know?”

  
You wiped your face with the sleeve of your shirt and winked, “You certainly seem to think so. Here, let me help you put your panties back on at least,” you offered before sliding her underwear back on, kissing her leg every few inches as you moved the fabric up to cover her sex. 

  
She sat up in the back seat and patted the empty seat beside her. You stood and slid in beside her, assuming she wanted to give you a quick kiss to thank you. Instead, she quickly placed her hand over the crotch of your jeans and palmed your erection. 

  
She stared at you mischievously and squeezed you as hard as she could through the thick denim, “I knew you were hard.”

  
“Well, you are very vocal and that was a hell of a show from my point of view,” you replied, trying to be as cool as you could be with her hand on your dick. 

  
“Well, I can’t leave you like this before we go back to the bunker, now can I?”

  
“That would be awfully cruel to do someone, especially on the day of their birth,” you replied with a smirk. 

  
She leaned in, kissed your neck and began to unbutton your jeans, “Well, better make this quick then. As much as I’d love to draw it out, we really need to get the groceries home.”

  
You ran your right hand up and down her back, “Whatever you want, sweetheart. My balls are in your court.”

  
She chucked as she slid down your zipper and freed your dick from your boxers, “That’s right they are.”

  
She brought her hand up and licked her palm several times, before grasping your cock. She gave you a few slow pumps, but then started stroking quickly, her pace catching you off guard. 

  
You tried to cry out a profanity, but her lips were suddenly on yours. She swallowed your gasps as she forced you to make lip to lip contact with her. Her hand was warm and wet around your thick member and she would occasionally stop to rub her thumb forcefully across the slit in the tip. A groan rumbled deep in your chest as she stayed face to face with you. 

  
She licked her lips, “You like that Dean? Like the way I touch you here,” she said squeezing you tightly for emphasis. 

  
“Fuck sweetheart. Yeah, can’t you tell,” you replied snarkily.

  
“How many times have you pictured this before? Thought about me? Hands wrapped around your big, thick cock? Lips wrapped around you?” she asked teasingly. 

  
You started to jerk your hips upward to meet her pumps, “Shit, too many times to count princess.”

  
“I hope it’s all been worth the wait, so far. You feel so good in my hands Dean,” she whispered in your ear, her breath hot and voice full of desire. 

  
“Fuck, (Y/N), I’m close,” you moaned. 

  
In a flash, her warm, wet mouth was on your dick and her tongue was dancing back and forth across the tip. You threw your head back against the seat and felt yourself roll over the edge, coming hard, shooting your semen up and into her welcome mouth. She continued to stroke you through your orgasm, lapping up any lingering cum from your cock. She gingerly tucked you back into your boxers and zipped up your jeans before securing the button. 

  
She kissed you on the cheek, “Twice in one day, I’m gonna have you spoiled, Dean-o.”

  
When you finally caught your breath you crashed your lips onto hers. She ran her fingers through your hair and you circled your arms around her middle, pulling her as close to you as physically possible. When you were done, you nipped at her lips a few times before sitting back and just staring in awe at her. 

  
“_God, I fucking love you._”

  
She stroked your cheek with the back of her hand, “Ok, now we really have to get back. Sam is gonna be pissed if I hog up all of your time.”

  
“Let him be pissed. I don’t care.”

  
She playfully smacked your chest, “Well I do. I want you to have some brother time with him today.”

  
“All right, all right miss bossy pants, let’s head out.”

  
“I definitely want to come back here another time though,” she said, biting her lip. 

  
“Oh, without a doubt. We will be back here and soon, I promise.”

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
It was a few hours later and Dean was off getting in some good sibling time with Sam and you and Mary were working on dinner. You did your best to pay attention to each step so you could make this meal if Dean or Sam ever craved it and their mother was unavailable to cook. While the pecan pie was baking and the banoffee pie was setting up, you blew up a few red and black balloons, tied them to chairs around the war room table and taped up a “Happy Birthday” banner across the library entrance way. 

  
Just as Mary was getting dinner out of the oven and you were placing plate and silverware around the table, Sam and Dean came waltzing back into the bunker. You heard Dean say, “What the hell is all of this?” as he came down the spiral staircase. 

  
You held up your hands theatrically, “This is your birthday dinner, dumbass. So enjoy it.”

  
“Pretty sure you aren’t allowed to call the guest of honor any names,” he said, eyeing you suspiciously. 

  
“I can if they’re being a jackass,” you retorted. 

  
Sam slapped Dean on the back, “She’s got you there.”

  
You stood in place and waited for Dean to make his way over to you. He pulled you into a tight embrace, “I love it. Thanks.”

  
“You’re welcome. Did you have fun with Sam?”

  
He nodded, “Yeah, we hustled some cocky college kids out of a couple hundred bucks, had a few drinks and just hung out.”

  
“And . . . ?”

  
“And what?”

  
“How was the birthday lap dance? Did you enjoy yourself?”

  
“Actually, we just stayed at the bar.”

  
“Really?” you asked doubtfully. 

  
“Yeah, I’ve seen all I wanted to see today,” he replied before leaning in to give you slow, tender kiss. 

  
“Guys, I’m still in the room you know,” Sam said, walking up beside you. 

  
“Sam, I’m glad you and Dean had a good time. Thanks for taking him out while your mom and I got dinner ready,” you replied, looking at the younger Winchester. 

  
Dean released you and clapped his hands together, “Speaking of, what is it? I am starving!”

  
Mary came in from the kitchen with a casserole dish, “Lucky for you, it just came out of the oven. I was unsure about this, but (Y/N) insisted that you would love it.”

  
Dean’s beautiful green eyes lit up as he examined the dish carefully, “No, is that . . . Winchester surprise?”

  
You and Mary both nodded as Dean leaned in to inhale a long forgotten scent of his favorite childhood dinner, “That smells fucking delicious!”

  
Mary shook her head, “I still can’t believe I ever fed this to you and John. It’s so greasy, like . . . heart attack on a plate.”

  
Dean held up a finger in the air, “Uh, a delicious heart attack on a plate, okay?”

  
“Okay, well, everyone sit, sit and let’s eat,” you ordered. 

  
Dean made sure that you sat beside him and you were actually surprised to find that the one dish Mary could cook was pretty good. Sam only had a small portion but Dean was on his second serving before he came up for air to speak to anybody. 

  
He moaned against his fork, “Mom, this is really good. A lot better than the bologna disaster I tried to make, remember that Sammy?”

  
“Oh yeah, how could I forget,” Sam replied nostalgically. 

  
“You tried to make this?” Mary asked in disbelief.

  
“Yeah, but it did not turn out well. We were staying in a motel while Dad was out hunting a pack of wolves with a couple of other hunters. I took a whole package of bologna and sliced cheese and put it onto the motel’s hot plate.”

  
Mary gasped, “No!”

  
Dean nodded, “Yeah it stunk up that room so bad and Dad just happened to come back at that exact moment. He was so mad,” Dean took a pause to laugh, “He picks up everything, chucks it in the trash. Probably reminded him of you, and . . .” 

  
You reached under the table and patted Dean’s knee comforting, knowing that the memory must’ve reminded him how hard it was for him to grow up without his mother. Mary and Sam were both looking down at the table, obviously thinking the same thing. 

  
Mary rubbed her hands together, “Sometimes I forget just how much I missed while I was gone and how much the two of you just . . .”

  
“But, you’re here now, right?” you added, trying to bring the mood back up.

  
Dean patted your hand on top of his knee, “That’s right. Just knowing that you’re around, that you’re alive . . . Mom, that’s meant everything to me.”

  
“Me too,” Sam commented. 

  
“Best damn birthday gift,” Dean said, giving you a wink. 

  
That seemed to cheer Mary up and the rest of the dinner was pretty uneventful, except for the fact that Dean ate half of the casserole all by himself. Unsurprising, he still had room for pecan pie and you made everyone sing “Happy Birthday” to him before blowing out a “3” and and “8” candle atop the pie. 

  
Once everybody was done eating, Sam said he wanted to retire to bed early. Your mother had informed you all at dinner that the meeting about the vampires that your girl had warned you all about was taking place tomorrow, so he wanted to have a full night’s rest before taking on the alpha vampire. Dean insisted on helping his mother clean up, so you excused yourself to take a shower and head to bed as well, letting Dean have some quality time with his mother. After you were all cleaned up, you brushed your hair and opted to sleep in a comfy grey sweater and a pair of dark green pajama pants. You settled into bed and decided to wait up for Dean by reading a book about angel lore. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
You and your mother had ended up having a few beers and talking about past hunts and some of your craziest near death stories. Before you knew it, it was almost midnight. 

  
“Wow, I didn’t realize how late it was,” your mother said, looking at her watch.

  
“Oh, yeah, I’ve been hogging your time,” you replied, gathering the empty bottles for the recycling can that (Y/N) had made you set up in the kitchen. 

  
“Nonsense,” your mother said coming over to place a hand on your cheek, “I enjoyed my own one on one time with you. I hope you had a good birthday, Dean.”

  
“I did. Thanks for dinner, mom”

  
“You’re welcome. (Y/N) said you’d like it. She also paid close attention to everything I did, so anytime you want it, I think she’s got the recipe down.”

  
“Now you call me if you need help tomorrow. I’m not far away,” you urged. 

  
“Don’t worry, I will. But, I trust our girl. I’m hoping it will all go according to plan.”

  
Your mother gave you a hug before she headed off to her room. After you recycled the beer bottles, you made your way to your bedroom. You were surprised to find that your girl was still up, nose buried in a book. She lit up and immediately closed her reading material when she saw you. 

  
“Waiting up for me?” you asked. 

  
“Maybe. Plus, I haven’t had a chance to read about any angel lore yet,” she said tapping the cover of her book, “I mean, I know a lot from the show, but as much as I do know, I bet there are hundreds of other things I’ve never heard of.”

  
You decided to change into a black t-shirt and matching sweatpants as she spoke to you. You turned around from your dresser and saw she had her head cocked, eyes focused on your ass.

  
“Hey, my eyes are up here, princess,” you teased, mimicking her words from a few days ago.

  
She sighed appreciatively, “Yeah, but the rest of you is down there.”

  
You lightly jumped on the bed, landing on your stomach and bouncing her a few inches off the mattress. You crawled up and pulled her down so the two of you were facing one another. 

  
“You’re such a goofball,” she said with a small giggle.

  
“You know what you are?”

  
“A nerd,” she said mocking your deep voice. 

  
You shook your head. 

  
“Annoying?” 

  
You shook your head again.

  
“A tease? What?”

  
You rubbed your hand up and down her back, “Fun.”

  
She gave you a confused look, “That is not what I was expecting you to say. Are you talking about with or without my clothes on?”

  
You slapped her ass lightly, “Both. But, I was actually talking about with your clothes on.”

  
She was trying not to smile, “Really?”

  
“Mmhm. I mean, next to Sam, you’re my favorite person to be around. Whether we’re grocery shopping, getting road food, decapitating monsters or hunting demons, you make everything fun.”

  
She patted your shoulder, “Well, you make everything fun for me too Dean.”

  
You started to give her a kiss, but she held up a finger to your lips, “Now, of course if that ever changes and you get boring, I’ll just have to move on to the next hunter that can keep me entertained.”

  
“Oh, is that so?”

  
“Mmhmm.”

  
She dropped her finger, allowing you to press your lips softly onto hers. You laid there, making out with her, for God knows how long, until you both yawned with exhaustion. You rolled over onto your back and she stretched out across your chest. 

  
Suddenly, a thought crossed your mind, “Hey, when is your birthday?”

  
She smiled sheepishly, “Uh, well . . . It was actually a few days ago on the nineteenth.”

  
“What?! Why didn’t you say anything?”

  
She turned her head back and forth, “I don’t know. We were busy with a case and technically I’ve already celebrated it. It’s okay, we can celebrate some other time or next year. I had enough fun today that it might as well have been my birthday.”

  
“So, how old are you then? Twenty eight?”

  
“Technically, yeah.”

  
“Geez, you make me feel like I’m robbing the cradle, being a full decade older than you and all.”

  
She chuckled, “It’s just a number Dean. Besides, I had to wait for you to grow up.”

  
“You think I’m grown up now?”

  
“Compared to how you were ten years, yeah. Think about how you were back then or hell, even five years ago. Do you think you’d be ready for someone like me?” she asked, resting her chin on your chest and staring into your eyes. 

  
You contemplated her question for a moment and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before answering, “For someone like you? Maybe. But for you, probably not. I think you showed up at just the right time.”

  
“Exactly, so don’t get caught up on the number, Dean. Deep down, we’re both big kids at heart and I think that’s what matters.”

  
“You’re pretty wise for a young whipper snapper,” you replied with a mocking elderly voice.

  
She turned her face away from you and laid her cheek on your chest, “And don’t you forget it, pappy. Good night, birthday boy.”

  
“Night, nerd,” you replied, kissing the top of her head. 

  
“_I love you._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed spending Dean’s birthday with him! 😉  
I LOVE reading comments and feedback, so feel free to drop one below. I don’t want to give too much away, and I feel like I say this a lot, but these next few chapters are going to be some of my favorite. I have the next four outlined and cannot wait to share them with you. BIG things are coming!!


	34. Ketch and Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is having some trouble with sitting out of the next hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is kind of a short chapter, but definitely needed. The next one coming up is going to be very long, so bear with me. 😊  
Also, I may be behind the curve, but I just figured out how to create my own gifs! So, I’m going to try and make them more specific to the story so the words and images match up as closely as possible. Enjoy the story!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
Dean ran a hand through his brown, spiky hair in frustration as he continued to pace back and forth on the other side of the war room table, “I just don’t understand how it would hurt to be close by in case of emergency.”

  
You sighed from your seat, “I get that you’re worried Dean . . .”

  
“You bet your ass I’m worried,” he snapped, “That’s my mother and brother out there. Alone. With a nest of vampires heading directly towards them and I’m sitting here with my thumb up my ass.”

  
Dean had been on edge ever since Mary and Sam left for the British Men of Letter’s headquarters this morning. Luckily, the other two Winchesters had warmed up to your plan and Sam had even promised to pretend to agree to work with Mick once the alpha vampire was vanquished. Unsurprisingly, Dean was having difficulty with staying out of the action. 

  
You tried to remain calm, “Dean, I know how worried you are. I care about Sam and your mother too and I don’t want them hurt. But this is a guaranteed shot to take down the alpha. You know how important that is!”

  
His anger was starting to get the best of him, “Hey! Don’t lecture me about taking down alphas. I’ve been hunting my entire life and you’ve been doing this for what? Three months!?”

  
“Look here Winchester,” you yelled, “I may have only been here a few months, but I know just how significant today is. If you really want to go after them and try to help, then go! But I’m telling you, sometimes it’s best to stay behind and let things unfold without you.”

  
Dean stopped pacing and stared angrily at you, his green eyes laser focused on yours, “How do you know this will work?”

  
“I just do Dean. Everything else I’ve known about has worked out, right? Ramiel, the Colt, Lily Sunder . . . It all went down according to how I saw it. What is so different about this case?”

  
He slammed a fist down on the table, “Because I can’t be there. We’re not there if something goes sideways and if I lose . . .”

  
You stood and went to make your way over to him. You tentatively reached for his hand, “Dean . . . I promise, nothing is going to happen.”

  
Dean exhaled sharply before snatching his hand out of your grip, “I’m going to get some air.” Dean turned around and marched heatedly up the staircase and out the bunker’s front door. 

  
“_Stubborn jackass_,” you thought, shaking your head. 

  
A few hours later, when your vision was going blurry from continuing to read the book on angel lore, you decided to go in search of Dean to see if he had cooled down. You changed out of your pajamas into a pair of jeans, one of your Disney shirts and a black and grey flannel. You checked the gym, his man cave, the shooting range and a few other places before finally making your way to the garage. You knew you were on the right track when you heard “AC/DC “ blaring loudly through the hallways as you approached your destination. You opened the doors and were momentarily speechless. He was bent over in Baby’s engine, his black T-shirt clinging to his muscular frame. He was nodding along to the song and biting his lip in concentration. When the door shut behind you, his head snapped up towards you. Immediately, he tensed up and returned his focus to the task at hand. 

  
You strolled leisurely over to him and stood a few feet away, arms crossed, “What you up to?”

  
Without looking up, he yelled back sarcastically, “What? I can’t hear you.”

  
You hollered at him, “Well then turn down the music!”

  
He shook his head, “Nah, that’s ok.”

  
You stomped over to the radio and turned the volume down yourself. Dean popped up from the engine and took several long strides towards you until he was chest to chest with you. You had to angle your head up to look him in the eyes, but you were determined not to back down. 

  
He huffed, “What the hell are you doing?”

  
“You couldn’t hear me, so I turned down the radio. Problem solved,” you replied snarkily. 

  
He closed his eyes and shook his eyes several times before turning around to grab a beer out of the all too familiar green cooler that was sitting on the floor near Baby. He twisted off the top and flung it forcefully across the garage before taking a long swig. 

  
You took in a deep breath, “Dean, you can be pissed at me all you want, but that does not give you the right to act like a jackass.”

  
He rolled his eyes, “Oh yeah?”

  
“YEAH!” you screamed, walking over and pointing a finger into his chest, “I said you could go if you wanted to and here you all, still in the bunker, which means you must trust me somewhat. So stop with this passive aggressive bullshit, because I don’t play that game.”

  
He shouted in your face, “I’m not pissed at you!”

  
“Oh, no?!” you yelled back. 

  
“NO!”

  
“Then what are you mad at?”

  
“I’m mad at the fucking situation!”

  
“Then why are we still screaming at each other!”

  
His seriously intimidating face broke out into a small smile, “I don’t know!”

  
You couldn’t help but to chuckle at the silliness of it all, causing his stern façade to break out into a small smile, helping to break some of the tension in the air. 

  
He took in a deep breath and was serious once again. He leaned his head back until he was looking straight up at the ceiling, “I know I could go if I wanted to, but like, if my mom and Sammy have enough faith to go without you telling them much, then I’m trying to stay here. But, damn it, sweetheart, it’s hard.”

  
“So, what are you doing out here then,” you asked, willing yourself to avoid reaching out to him, possibly setting off another argument. 

  
He looked back to you, “I’m giving Baby a tune up. I’ve already looked at your car and half a dozen others in this garage. Baby doesn’t really need it, but I’m just trying to keep my hands and mind busy.”

  
You moved past him to stare at Baby’s engine, “Hmmm. Well, why don’t you give me a lesson in mechanics then?”

  
He raised one eyebrow in confusion, “Say what?”

  
“You’re looking for a distraction, right?”

  
He nodded his head and you continued with your explanation, “Well, I don’t know a lot about cars, so why don’t you teach me?”

  
He walked over to stand by your side, “And exactly how much do you know?”

  
You pointed into the engine, “Well, there’s the engine. There’s the battery and . . . there’s the reservoir for windshield wiper fluid.”

  
“That’s it?” he asked, disapproval dripping out of his mouth.

  
You shrugged your shoulders, “Never had a chance or reason to learn more about cars. But, now that I have a top tier mechanic at my disposal, I might as well take advantage.”

  
“What about changing a tire. Do you know how to do that?”

  
You shook your head and he scoffed, “Damn, we are so different.”

  
You finally felt comfortable enough to nudge him playfully with your shoulder, “Yeah, yeah. So, what do you say Mr. Winchester, feel like giving a free lesson?”

  
He licked his lips, “I don’t know about free, but I’m sure you can pay for it somehow.”

  
His heated gaze instantly caused heat to stir in your core, “Oh, I bet I can.”

  
He wiggled his eyebrows, “All right princess, I guess I can teach you a few things. After all, I can’t have my girl being ignorant about cars, now can I?”

  
You slipped off your flannel and tossed it to the side, “Nope, definitely a situation that needs to be rectified immediately.”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

You spent the next several hours giving her lessons on how to change spark plugs, the oil, a tire and other basic mechanic lessons. She was a quick learner and took your teaching seriously. However, a loud grumble from both of your stomachs signaled it was time to take a break and grab something to eat. 

  
“Want me to throw a pizza in the oven?” she offered as you made your way into the kitchen. 

  
“Sounds great, don’t forget the . . .”

  
“Extra cheese. I know, I know,” she said waving her hand at you. 

  
You decided to go into the library to pour yourself a drink, but were dismayed when you saw the decanter was void of whiskey, “Oh, no.” You bent down to search the drink cart for other options, but every other bottle was empty as well, “How the hell did we let this happen?”

  
Suddenly, there was a knock at the bunker’s door. 

  
You climbed up the staircase to the entrance slowly, assuming that it was Sam at the door, you called out, “What’d, you forget your key?”

  
The ornate, metallic door creaked open, but it wasn’t your brother there to greet you. 

  
“Hello, mate,” Arthur Ketch said in greeting. 

  
You eyed him suspiciously, “How’d you find us?”

  
“Well, this is a Men of Letters bunker. The location’s no secret to us.”

  
“Okay. Cool. Well, good talk,” you replied as you reached to shut the door in his face.

  
Ketch slammed his right hand on the door, stopping you. You noticed a cross shaped tattoo on the top of his hand just before he spoke, “And whilst I understand that you’re not feeling . . . warmly disposed to me, I wonder, what’s your disposition to this incredibly rare, unspeakably expensive, bottle of barrel proof Scotch.”

  
You swallowed hard as he held up a dark red, cylindrical case that had a bronze label emblazoned across the bottom. You figured he was trying to bribe you, but hey, who were you to turn down good alcohol. You could have a few drinks, make him waste his money and time and then send him on his way.

  
“Fine, come in. But don’t touch anything,” you warned. 

  
The two of you made your way back down to the war room and you procured a few glasses from the drink cart in the library. Ketch was already opening the bottle and poured you and himself a glass. He sat at the head of the table near the bunker’s entrance and you opted to sit at the other side, as far away from him as possible. 

It was then that (Y/N) came waltzing in from the kitchen, “Okay, we will have pizza in about thirty minutes. Dean, was someone knocking . . .?” Her voice trailed off when she noticed that you had an uninvited guest. Her jaw clenched as she stared daggers at Ketch before retuning her focus to you. She titled her head and raised an eyebrow, silently asking you why he was here, but you were pretty sure the language in her head was much more colorful. 

  
You laughed nervously, “Uh, yeah. Ketch here brought a housewarming gift.”

  
Ketch smiled smugly, “Ah, (Y/N), wasn’t sure if you would still be around. Come, have a seat. Would you like a drink?”

  
She stomped over and took a seat beside you, “No, I wouldn’t. I don’t accept candy from strangers.”

  
“Have it your way then,” Ketch replied. He took a long swig from his glass and moaned in appreciation. 

  
You took your first sip of the decadent amber liquor and thought, “_Damn it, this is good stuff._”

Ketch surveyed the room, “Nice place. Quaint. Cozy.”

  
Both you and (Y/N) remained silent. You continued to sip on the delicious liquid while she stared Ketch down. 

  
“Not much for small talk, are we?” Ketch asked. 

  
“Nope,” you and her replied at the same time. 

  
Ketch nodded, “Well, surely you have some questions. Why I’m here for instance.”

  
You relaxed back in your chair, “You’re here to recruit us. You got already got Mary playing your game. You want me. And Sam. And (Y/N).”

  
“Well, I don’t, but the old lads have taken quite a shine to you,” he replied. 

  
You lightly scoffed, “Well, maybe they shouldn’t have sent some chick to try and kill us.”

  
Ketch sighed with regret, “Yes, Toni. No one predicted she would go rogue. No one but me. I had a sneak peak at what a neurotic, overreaching, time bomb she was.”

  
You stared at him quizzically until he muted in embarrassment, “We used to date.”

  
You chuckled before taking another drink, “Huh. Yeah, I can see that.” You looked to your girl who nodded in agreement. 

  
Ketch went on to explain, “Dean, I don’t give a toss if. You sign up. Honestly, I don’t care whether either of you live or die. But, since we’re such jolly good pals now . . .”

  
You cut him off, “Jolly good, huh?”

  
He continued to speak, “Let me just say that the Men of Letters is an excellent fit for somewhat with our . . . inclinations.”

  
“‘Our’? As in you and me?” you asked skeptically. 

  
He smiled, “You’re a killer, Dean Winchester and so am I. And if we go too long without something to track or trap or punch or gut, well, things get a bit ugly. Don’t they?”

  
You sat quietly in your chair, pondering his accusations about who you were. Meanwhile, (Y/N) was leaning forward, fists balled at her sides just below the table. 

  
Ketch spoke once again, “The Men of Letters keep me busy. They point me in a direction and bang! Off to the races. It’s not a bad life.”

  
“That’s enough!” she warned sternly from your side. 

  
Ketch replied all too innocently, “I beg your pardon?”

  
She pointed a finger at him, “_You_ may be some toy that someone smarter and higher up on the food chain can laugh at for entertainment as they wind you up and watch you do their dirty work. But that is not Dean. Or Sam. Or me for that matter.”

  
“Oh, is that so?” Ketch asked. 

  
She mimicked his “holier than thou” attitude, “Yes it is, you dickless James Bond wannabe.”

  
Ketch stared at her in shock, but she continued, “Dean and Sam, they’re not just killers. They don’t blindly follow a code that someone made up hundreds of years ago, shutting off their brains and carrying out orders like mindless drones. The world is not black and white and they understand that. Too bad it’s something you’re too unintelligent or ignorant to comprehend. They handle each hunt, each situation differently and when the rules need to be bent, they bend them or break them as needed. So, don’t you ever, _EVER_, dare to compare yourself to them!”

  
Ketch cleared his throat, trying to keep his calm demeanor intact, “And, who exactly do you think you are that you know them so well, my dear?”

  
She opened and closed her mouth several times, speechless. You could tell she was trying her damndest not to show all her cards, but wanting to stand up for herself. Ketch smiled smugly and took a drink from his glass. 

  
You reached over and grabbed her hand before answering, “She’s one of us. That’s all you need to know.”

  
She squeezed your hand fiercely back, but her eyes remained laser focused on Ketch. He stared back and forth between the two of you several times before finishing his drink and standing up from his chair, “Well, now that you’ve heard what I have to say, places to be, vampires to behead.”

  
“You got a line on some vamps?” you asked in confusion. You briefly turned your head to look at your girl who shook her head when Ketch’s back was turned to you as he made his way towards the stairs.

  
Ketch turned back around, “I do. Interested?” 

  
“Vamps? Yeah, but not with you douchenozzle. I think it’s best if you left now,” she answered. 

  
He scoffed, “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you answer for him now?”

  
You finished off your drink, “Frankly, I’m more afraid of her than you, so I’m not about to piss her off.”

  
“Hmmm, yes. She does seem to have you by the short and curlies,” he replied. 

  
You rolled your eyes at his obvious attempt to try and rile you up, but he had obviously gotten underneath her skin because you could physically feel the rage radiating off of her. When you didn’t say anything back, Ketch started to march up the stairs, “Well, enjoy the scotch. I’m sure I’ll see you two again real soon.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
As soon as that pompous asshole was out the bunker door, you stood up and kicked your seat back. You could feel the fury and anger vibrating inside you. You stomped back and forth along the edge of the war room table, trying to work out your rage while ranting, “UGH!!! I can’t stand that man! He has no idea who you and Sam are and the audacity of him to try and manipulate you like that. I forgot he would be coming here to try and suck you into their world with a hunt and bottle of good scotch. How dare he!? He’s . . . I . . . Such a . . .”

  
Suddenly you felt Dean’s hand on the small of your back, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. He’s gone now.”

  
You turned around and put a few feet between you and him, “I know, he just pisses me off so much. He thinks he’s better than all of us and believes he can twist your words around to manipulate you to do what he wants. I’m just frustrated that he has the nerve to try and fuck with my family!”

  


  
You stilled as shock replaced all the wrath you had just been feeling. You thought, “_Shit, how embarrassing! Yes, I can consider them family, but they’ve only known me a few months. Way to put your foot in your mouth idiot!_”

  
You stuttered, “Dean . . . I, I’m sorry. I meant your family. I don’t like him fucking with your family.”

  
He closed the distance between you and cupped your cheek in his warm hand, “No, you got it right the first time, sweetheart.”

  
“What?”

  
“By now, they’re you’re family too. I meant what I said. You’re one of us. No escaping now. Even if I have to handcuff you to the bed,” he said with a wink. 

  
Somehow, this gorgeous man had managed to both reassure you and sent heat pooling into your stomach at the same time. You closed your eyes and leaned into his chest, “Thanks, Dean.”

  
He circled one arm around your middle, holding you tightly against him. He slid his other hand around to the back of your head and ran his thumb back and forth lazily across your scalp. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, but the longer he held you, the better you felt. Finally, you heard the buzzer go off in the kitchen, signaling that your pizza was ready. 

  
When you were finally calm, you tilted your head back and gave him a silent, “Thank you.” 

  
Dean gave a small smirk before giving you a quick kiss on your forehead. 

  
While you were eating, Dean asked with a mouthful of food, “So, what did the “Nancy boy” mean when he said he was hunting vampires. I thought they were going after the Brit’s headquarters?”

  
You chuckled softly, “Joke’s on him. He thinks he is going after the nest, but really they’re all gone. Well, except for one vampire, which will end up telling him that everyone else is headed towards their headquarters. He thought he was going to storm in there, guns blazing, with you. Show you all his fancy toys and reel you in like a prized trout.”

  
“Good thing you pulled the hook out of my mouth.”

  
“Well, what can I say, I’m a giver.”

  
“That you are, sweetheart. Well at least we got this nice bottle of scotch out of the deal.”

  
“Always looking on the bright side, huh Dean?”

  
“What can I say, I’m an optimist.”

  
Dean continued his mechanic lessons the rest of the afternoon until you both were hungry again. Dean offered to run out for burgers while you took a shower. When he returned, the two of you ate in his bed while he forced you to watch “_Caddyshack_”. Halfway through the movie, he got a call from Sam saying that everything had gone well and that the alpha vampire was dead. You could see the relief wash over Dean as he visibly relaxed at the news that his brother and mother were safe. 

  
When he hung up the phone, you stared at him expectantly. He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

  
“Well?” you asked simply. 

  
“You gonna tell me?”

  
He rolled his eyes, “You were not wrong.”

  
You sucked at your teeth, “So close, but not the answer I’m looking for.”

  
In a flash, he pinned you down on the bed, his face inches from yours, “Oh yeah?”

  
“Yeah,” you replied confidently.

  
He leaned down until his lips were just barely grazing yours, “Sorry doll, that’s as close as you’re gonna get.”

  
“You are the most stubborn, hard headed . . .” But you never got to finish you insult. His lips came crashing down onto yours, silencing you. You let your fingers play in the soft, baby hairs at the nape of his neck and felt him shiver under your touch as his tongue invaded your mouth. He slide his tongue along yours and you were happy to let him take control of the kiss. When he broke away for air, he rolled back over to his side, pulling you with him so that you were facing him. 

  
“. . . Idjit that I’ve ever met,” you said finishing your sentence. 

  
He laughed, “You just had to finish your insult huh?”

  
“I like to finish what I start,” you winked. 

  
He slid his hand down to your ass and gave it a light squeeze. You stared into his opalescent green eyes, still in disbelief that this man was yours. You began to ponder all the things you had stopped and considered the long road still ahead. Suddenly, you remembered what was going to happen next, “Crowley!”

  
“Crowley?! Where?” Dean asked, whipping his head around the room. 

  
You patted his chest, “No, we need to call him.”

  
“Now?!”

  
“The sooner the better, yeah.”

  
He sighed, “Why do you always ruin a good moment, princess?”

  
“I’m sorry, it’s just that I was thinking about what’s coming next and I remembered that one of his hellhounds might get loose and kill a kid. If I can call him and tell him to keep an eye on them . . .”

  
“Yeah, yeah, it’ll save a kid,” he answered, reaching for his phone. 

  
“_Of course, if Crowley listened to me and actually let Rowena send Lucifer back to the cage, then this won’t happen. But, better to be safe than sorry._”

  
Dean turned back to you and put his phone on speaker before laying it on the bed in between the two of you. He gave you another quick kiss just as Crowley picked up the line, “Not Moose. What do I owe the displeasure?” 

  
“Keep an eye on your hellhounds,” Dean quickly barked into the phone.

  
“Excuse me?” the King of Hell asked in confusion. 

“He said to keep an eye on your hellhounds, Fergus,” you answered. 

  
“Chipmunk! So nice to hear from you. I take it you still have squirrel’s nuts tucked away in your back pocket,” he replied dryly. 

  
“Crowley, this is serious. You need to keep a close eyes on your hellhounds. A few rogue demons are going to try and release one to distract you while they try to turn others against you and take over hell,” you explained. 

  
“Is that so?” he questioned, obviously not believing what you were saying. 

  
“Yeah it is, so don’t be so arrogant. In fact, it’s the only hellhound to be rescued by Lucifer himself. I can’t remember her name . . .” you trailed off.

  
“Ramsey?” Crowley responded with more interest. 

  
“That sounds right. Look, keep a tight leash on her or else. And keep a lookout for those closest to you. They’re not on your team,” you warned. 

  
Crowley was silent for a few moments before he spoke again, “And my dear little chipmunk, exactly why are you helping me out with all of this information? Expecting a little tit for tat are we?”

  
You shook your head in disgust, “Ew, no!”

  
He chuckled, “I think she doth protest too much. Looks like I may have a shot with the little woman, Dean.”

  
Dean was about to go off, but you stepped in quickly, “Look Fergus, listen or don’t listen to me. I’m only telling you because if she gets out, an innocent kid is going to be killed. So do your damn job and make sure the hellhounds stay under your control.”

  
“You’re awfully cocky for a weak, insignificant little human,” he retorted. 

  
“And you’re a pretentious little ingrate. Now, I’ve said what I needed to say. Goodbye Crowley,” you said before hanging up the phone without giving him a chance to respond. 

  
You rolled over onto your back and crossed your arms in a huff. You could feel Dean staring at you from his side of the bed. 

  
“What Dean?” you snapped, a little more harshly than you intended to. 

  
“Nothing. It’s just . . . Wow. I love it when you get all feisty like that,” he said wrapped an arm around you and pulling you into him. 

  
You relaxed into his embrace, “Yeah, well I don’t care if he is the King of Hell. Big whoop. He needs to be brought down a peg or two every now and again.”

  
“And you’re the person to do that?”

  
“You’re damn right I am!”

  
Dean nuzzled at your neck and you tilted your head to give him more access. After a few moments, you turned your head to give him several slow, deep kisses. You looked deep into his shining olive green eyes, “Thanks for backing me up.”

  
“You’re worth it, babe,” he said with a wink. 

  
“We better sleep. When Sam gets back, it’s gonna be lot of back to back hunts. Ready to stretch your legs and take out some monsters?”

  
He laid his head down on your chest and you reached up the arm that was in between you to wrap around his back, “Oh, I was born ready. You’re the one that better keep up and not slow us down.”

  
You knew he was teasing you, so you gently slapped him on the back, “We’ll see who the slow one is, idjit.”

  
“Night, princess.”

  
“Night, Dean.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you enjoyed the custom gifs and this fluffy little chapter. The next one is going to have more action and a few new characters. Can’t wait to see you next time! ♥️ ♥️ ♥️ ♥️ 😘


	35. New Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick Davies gives you and the Winchesters a new assignment and decides to come with you on the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shew! This chapter is LONG and there’s a lot going on. It’s about 2-3 times as long as any other chapter I have posted thus far, but I was so excited to write it and share it with you. Please let me know what you think! Grab a drink and settle in!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
The next couple of weeks were a blur as you took on case after case from the British Men of Letters. You finally were able to have enough down time to return to the bunker, hopefully for a hot meal and at least one night’s rest. 

  
You were sluggishly trotting a few feet behind the boys as they headed into the library. You reached your arms behind your back to stretch out your muscles while Sam rubbed his neck. Dean groaned, “Hoo-hoo. Back to back to back. That was one for the books. And you know, you did good, nerd. Especially considering you didn’t know anything about what was going to happen.”

Sam gave you a friendly wink, “Yeah, I guess she’s making the cut.”

  
You gave him a playful punch in the shoulder before he pulled you in for a side hug. 

  
Dean stared at the baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire with admiration, “Man. Dad _loved_ this thing.”

  
You chuckled and both Sam and Dean stared at you. Dean asked, “Something funny?”

  
You sighed, “It’s just, okay have you two ever seen “_The Walking Dead_”?”

  
Dean shook his head and Sam nodded. You went on to explain, “Well, anyway, the same actor that played your father on the show I watched, he has a big role on that show in later seasons and that,” you pointed to the baseball bat, “is his signature weapon.”

  
Dean nodded in appreciation, “Nice.” 

  
There was a small thud as he sat the bat down on the library table closest to the entrance. He sighed heavily and took a seat at the table. 

  
Sam immediately began to protest, “Dude, on the . . . on the. No, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t. Dude, don’t!?

  
Dean replied in frustration, “What?”

  
You shared an annoyed look with Sam before sitting down in the chair beside Dean, keeping your distance. Sam continued to explained, “Dean, you’re covered in ghoul, man and . . . and . . . and wraith. You, you have a piece of siren in your hair.”

  
Dean reached up on the left side of his head and pulled at a hunk of flesh that was dried to his scalp. He peeled if off, chuckled and commented, “Gross,” before flicking it across the room. 

  
Sam pleaded, “Dude, why don’t you take a shower and change your clothes. You’ve been wearing the same pair of boxers for four days.”

  
You nodded in agreement with Sam as Dean examined his blood stained clothes. 

  
Dean held up a finger in your and Sam’s direction, “Okay, one, weird that you know how much underwear I packed.”

  
“That’s what’s weird about this?” Sam asked. 

  
Dean was unphased, “And B, it’s two and two. Doesn’t count if you flip ‘em inside, right babe?” He turned to you and clicked his tongue. 

  
You widened your eyes and shook your head slowly back and forth, “No. No . . . No it counts Dean. You need new underwear.”

  
He scoffed back at you, “Whatever.”

  
You turned towards Sam, “Anything going off on your phone there Sam?”

  
He pulled his phone out of his pocket to examine the screen, “No, nothing now.”

  
You sighed with relief, “Okay good. That means that Crowley’s hellhounds didn’t get out and get that camper. We should’ve heard from Mick by now if the kid bit the dust. So, as far as I know, we have a few days to relax and recharge the batteries. I need sleep . . . and food . . . and a shower, but not necessarily in that order.”

  
Sam spoke, “Sounds good. But Dean, seriously, you need to get cleaned up.”

  
Dean waved a hand at his brother, “I can just wipe off with some baby wipes. No big deal.”

  
Sam puckered his face in disgust, “Dude. Dean, I’m serious man. You smell like roadkill.”

  
You patted Dean on the leg, “You do Dean. You smell like a wet dog that’s been rolling around in decaying corpses. I’ve tried to be nice, but you reek.”

  
“Yeah, well that’s ‘cause I do all the heavy lifting,” Dean retorted. 

  
You had an idea, “I tell you what. What don’t you and I both go take a shower?”

  
He raised his eyebrows in curiosity and you sweetened the pot, “We can even use the fancy shampoo Sam keeps hidden. You get the shampoo and I’ll grab us some fresh clothes and I’ll meet you in the stalls? Sam, maybe you can run and go pick us up some dinner? Win win?”

  
Dean stood and slapped his hand lightly on the table, “All right, I’m in. Meet you in there doll.” With a wink and kiss on top of your head, he was off to the showers. 

  
Sam gave you a bitchface and you shrugged your shoulders, “Hey, we wanted him to shower. He’s going to shower. The least you can do is get some food for all of my hard work.”

  
“Oh yeah, that’s really gonna be hard work for you.”

  
You stood up from you seat and started to leave the library. You patted Sam on the chest, “You’ll thank me when you brother doesn’t smell like a toxic waste dump anymore.”

A few minutes later, you had gathered your shower caddy from your room along with a change of clothes for both you and Dean. By the time you reached the bathroom, the air was hot and thick with steam. You quietly made your way over to the benches in front of the shower stalls and placed the stuff you were carrying down in front of the shower Dean was occupying. His back was turned to you and you subconsciously licked your lips as you admired his perky ass and perfectly sculptured, broad shoulders. It seemed that he had already washed away most of the blood and bits of monster from his body and now, he was just enjoying the hot water. 

  
  


Eventually he turned around, eyes still closed. You let your gaze wonder up and down his chest and you couldn’t help but to notice he was already half hard. 

  
You sighed in appreciation, “Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm. Nice view there, Dean.”

  
He opened his eyes slowly and winked. You took in a deep breath and were pretty sure you could feel the wetness starting to soak through your panties. 

  
He crooked a finger in your direction, “Well, join the show, sweetheart.”

  
“_Two can play this game_,” you thought mischievously. You unbuttoned your shirt, slowly, but turned your back towards Dean before letting the dark blue, checkered flannel you were wearing fall to the floor, pooling around your feet. You bent over, ass in the air, and untied your shoes in order to slip them off easily. You slowly stood back up and toed off your socks. Next you crossed your arms around your stomach and took two fistfuls of the “_Breaking Bad_” shirt you were wearing before slowly pulling it up and over your head. You dropped it slowly to the floor at your side before unbuttoning your jeans and slowly inching them down your legs. You reached behind your back and unhooked one clamp at a time of your navy blue bra before letting the straps fall down your shoulders. You shed your bra and then shimmied out of your black panties, leaving you completely naked. 

  
You turned and saw that Dean was practically panting, his full on erection bopping out in front of him. You smiled in satisfaction and he spoke up in a husky voice, “Or maybe, I’ll join your show. Seems a lot better than mine.”

  
You slowly strolled across the room, criss crossing your legs as you inched towards his stall. Just when you were about to be within arm’s reach of him, you turned and entered the stall next to him. Just as you turned on the water, you heard him yell in frustration, “What the hell?!”

  
You peeked around the side and batted your eyelashes innocently, “What?”

  
“I thought you said we were gonna take a shower together,” he yelped, throwing his hands in the air. 

  
“Correction, I said we should both go take a shower and use the fancy shampoo. I never said we would take one together. Awfully presumptuous of you Dean,” you replied, sticking out your tongue before returning to your own stall. 

  
“_He is so much fun to mess with._”

  
You leaned your head back and enjoyed the hot water cascading down your front. You remembered how Dean had praised the temperature and water pressure several times on the show and he had not been lying about just how great it felt. Just as you were about to ask Dean for the shampoo, you felt two strong hands on your shoulders and Dean’s dick pressed up against your ass. 

  
You yelped in surprised, “Excuse me, sir. Just what do you think you’re doing?”

  
He leaned down and whispered in a domineering tone, “No way you’re getting out of your promise. You wanted me to get cleaned up, so we’re taking a shower together.”

  
His calloused fingers worked out the kinks in your muscles as he masterfully squeezed and massaged your shoulders. You subconsciously moaned in appreciation and couldn’t help but to find a fire growing in your core. 

  
“And what if I want to take a shower alone?” you asked breathily.

  
His hot breath whipped across your ear, “But, do you really want to?” His hands left your shoulders and began to dance down your arms. He circled his left arm around your stomach and suddenly, his right fingertips were teasing your folds. You arched your back, rubbing your ass on his cock.

  
“No, I guess not,” you uttered softly at the same time a deep groan rumbled in his chest. His left hand trailed up your stomach and grabbed your breast at the same time he let a finger sink deep into your aching pussy. He slowly started to pump his thick digit in and out of you while his other hand fondled your breast, occasionally pinching your nipple. You reached out one hand in front of you to support yourself against the shower wall and reached around with your other hand to grab his cock. It was difficult, but you managed to stroke him at the same pace that he was pumping into you. 

  
Dean groaned in pleasure and started thrusting up into your hand, pulling you as close to his chest as he could. His rested his chin on your shoulder and you could hear that his breathing was rough and ragged, “Fuck, sweetheart. Jesus Christ, you feel so good.”

  
Just as he inserted a second finger into you, you turned your head and gave him a kiss on the cheek, “Shit, balls,” you grunted, “Dean you do too. I’m glad you joined me.”

  
He turned his head in your direction, “Anytime babe.” He started to rub your clit with his thumb, causing you to cry out his name. However, your praises were cut off as he planted a searing kiss on your mouth with his full, luscious lips. You continued on like this for several, glorious minutes, each of you using the other’s hands to chase your own high. Finally he crooked his fingers and hit a sweet spot, “Dean, fuck! Oh sweet Jesus, I’m . . . I’m . . .”

  
He turned his head away and you could feel his thrusts into your hand becoming erratic. He spoke in a strained voice, “Me too, babe. Come on, you’re right there with me.” His thumb furiously circled your clit and you felt his cock start to twitch in your hand. He grunted loudly and bit down on your shoulder as he came. His little moans of pleasure were enough to send you crashing down over the edge, your pussy convulsing against his fingers. 

  
You stroked each other through your orgasm, taking a minute or two to catch your breath. You felt a sting of loss when he pulled his fingers out from inside of you. You turned around and stared into his half hooded eyes, “We should take more showers together.”

  
He backed you up against the wall, the cold tile taking your breath away. Water splashed off of his chest, “Anytime you want, (Y/N).” He leaned down and kissed you lazily for several long minutes, each of you reveling in the afterglow of your orgasm. He finally pulled away and walked out of the stall. 

  
“Hey, where are you going?” you called out, befuddled. 

  
He was back within a few seconds, brandishing your shower caddy and the famous fancy shampoo of Sam’s, “Just getting supplies. Turn around.”

  
You did as he ordered and listened as he squirted some of the shampoo out into his hands. You felt his hands start to rub the cleaning product into your hair, his fingers gently working up a lather in your hair. When he was done, he instructed you to turn around and rinse the shampoo out of your hair while he used a wash rag to lather up your body with your shower gel. While he did pay special attention to your breasts and ass, he mostly just made sure you were clean. After you conditioned your hair, you repeated the process for him, taking your time to appreciate every muscle on his body. Once you were both cleaned, you dressed in the pajamas you had picked out and met Sam back in the war room for dinner. 

  
“Good shower?” Sam asked with a knowing look. 

  
“I highly recommend taking a shower with a beautiful woman, any day of the week,” Dean replied cockily. 

  
Sam looked confused, “But, where would you find such a thing?”

  
Dean chortled and you flipped Sam off, “Shut it, lumberjack.”

  
After dinner, you all called it an early night and you practically passed out from exhaustion the moment your head hit the pillow on Dean’s bed. The next couple of days were spent recuperating at the bunker. You washed all the dirty laundry that had accumulated over your last several hunts, continued to read up on lore and you and the boys even enjoyed a night out a bar for dinner. Dean, of course, insisted on teaching you how to play pool and took every opportunity to touch, tease or rub up against you. 

  
A few nights later, the three were just finishing up a dinner of pot roast, mashed potatoes, rolls and green beans when you got your next assignment. Dean leaned back in his chair at the war room table, patting his stomach. He sighed in contentment, “Princess, I’m gonna have to actually start working out if you continue to cook for me like that.”

  
“A small price to pay for good food?” you asked with hope.

  
He nodded his head, “Bingo.”

You stood and began to gather the plates, rubbing his head as you walked around him. You sat the dishes in the sink and returned to gather the leftovers, just as Dean got a phone call. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and and put it on speakerphone, “Cas, what’s up?”

  
Castiel spoke in his signature, deep timbre, “Hey, I think I have a lead on Kelly Kline.”

  
“Really?” you asked. 

  
“She’s with Dagon, Prince of Hell,” Cas replied.

  
“_Good thing that seems to be on track._”

  
Sam seemed excited, “All right, what do we know about him?”

  
“Actually, it’s a her,” Cas corrected Sam, “And not much. It’s just rumors and stories. Dagon is mostly known for her psychotic savagery.”

  
Sam rolled his eyes, “Great. So where’s Kelly?”

  
“Well, she was in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. Now? I’m not sure.”

  
Dean chimed in, “All right, well, we’ll spread the word. Let us know if you find anything.”

  
“Take care Cas!” you added. 

  
“Of course, (Y/N),” Cas replied before hanging up the phone. 

  
Dean looked pensive, “He sound weird to you?”

  
Sam’s phone started ringing so you answered, “Dean, when does Cas _not_ sound weird?”

  
“Fair point, babe.”

  
Sam answered his phone, “This is Sam. Yeah? Okay, no problem. Just send me the details and we’ll meet you tomorrow morning.”

  
“Who we meeting and where?” Dean asked. 

  
“That was Mick. He says he has another case, but he wants us to meet him at the main headquarters to discuss the details,” Sam answered. 

  
“So, I’m finally going to meet Mick Davies,” you noted. 

  
“What, you gonna run off with him?” Dean teased. 

  
You pretended to contemplate your decision, “Well, I’ve always liked accents.”

  
Sam chuckled and Dean looked at you in shock. You sat down in his lap, “Just kidding.”

  
He lightly swatted your thigh, “Mmmhmm. So, do you know what this one is about?”

  
You nodded, “As a matter of fact I do. I’ll fill you all in on the ride to pick up his lordship tomorrow. Oh and Dean, you should pack some swim trunks.”

  
“Excuse me?” he queried, furrowing his eyebrows. 

  
You patted his cheek, “Just trust me, idjit.”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
The next morning, on the ride to meet up with Mick Davies, (Y/N) had briefly explained that the next case was going to revolve around a werewolf trying to create his own pack after his had been decimated by the Men of Letters. She said she didn’t want to give too many details, so you and Sam could still play dumb in front of Mick and pretend not to know anything about the case. She promised to give more insight when the right time came along. When you arrived at your destination, you made your way through security and were escorted into a room and told that Mick would arrive shortly. 

  
The electric buzz of the fluorescent lights in the makeshift headquarters of the British Men of Letters was the only sound that filled the air. You stared around at the old, red shipping containers before examine the four TV screens at the head of the room that displayed a map of the world. There was some mumbo jumbo and red dots scattered across across various locations, but mostly they were focused on Canada. 

  
Sam was siting on the edge of the long, oval shaped wooden table in the center of the conference room and your girl had opted to take a seat in one of the chairs. You stood with your arms crossed, trying not to pace back and forth. You checked your watch for the umpteenth time, irked that you had been waiting for twenty minutes for Mick to show up. After all, you may have agreed to temporarily play ball with the Brit’s, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. 

  
You sighed heavily, “All right, that’s it. I’m waiting in the car.”

  
Sam tried to reason with you, “Dean, dude, wait a second.”

  
“No. You know what? Getting jobs from these dicks is one thing, but I didn’t sign up for this reporting for duty crap, especially when they’re late,” you replied in frustration. 

  
There was a metallic clang as the door to the room opened. Mick entered, shut the door and a *_beep_* signaled that the door locked behind him, “Sorry I’m late. My report to the home office ran long. We’ve had our hands full since . . .” Mick’s voice trailed off as stared down at the blood stain on the otherwise barren, cement floor, “Well, best not to dwell on that.”

  
You gave him a backhanded compliment, “Wow. That is some world class repression. You _are_ British.”

  
“We prefer to call it a stiff upper lip,” Mick snarked back. 

  
Sam stepped in, “Okay, okay. Enough.”

  
You stared Mick down. Even though your girl said you could trust him, you still saw him as just another cog in the Men of Letters’ corrupt war machine. 

  
Mick noticed (Y/N) sitting at the table, “Ah, you must be (Y/N). It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

  
She smiled as she stood to shake his hand, “Guilty as charged. You must be Mick Davies.”

  
“_Traitor._”

  
Mick returned her smile, “That’s right. I’ve heard . . . some very interesting things about you from Mr. Ketch.”

  
She scoffed, “Yeah? Well, I hope you don’t let his view of me affect your opinion. I think he’s an absolute sadistic asshole.”

  
Mick chuckled, “He did say you were blunt and colorful with your language.”

  
She shrugged her shoulders, “I just don’t see the point in pretending to like him. But you, Mick, you get a pass.”

  
He dropped her hand, “Well, thanks for that.”

  
“So Mick, what’s the deal with the bat signal,” Sam wanted to know. 

  
Mick sighed and dropped the folder he was holding out onto the table, “There was an incident in Wisconsin. “Animal attack”. A girl named Hayden Foster is in the hospital and her brother lost his heart. Looks like a werewolf.”

  
Sam picked up the folder and examined the contents, “Well, they don’t usually leave behind survivors.”

  
“Freak probably got spooked before it could finish the job,” you guessed. 

  
“Well, perhaps. But it usually takes more than a fright to put your average werewolf off his supper,” Mick countered. 

  
“Oh, you’d know that, would you?” you questioned demeaningly. 

  
Mick turned on his heels and walked over to retrieve two books from a storage cabinet in his office, “Actually, I would. I did extensive research into lycanthropy at Kendricks.”

  
The three of you gathered around the Brit as Sam asked, “Kendricks?”

  
Mick explained, “The Kendricks School. It’s where the British Men of Letters train their operatives. It’s like our . . .”

  
“Hogwarts?” Sam asked, finishing his sentence. 

  
You took the folder from your brother and started flipping through the pages. Your girl stood next to you and briefly scanned the documents as well. 

  
“Exactly,” Mick replied, “Kendricks is the largest collection of occult lore in the world.”

  
Sam was impressed, “Cool.” He turned around to give you an appreciative look, but you just glared angrily back at him. 

  
“So, when it comes to werewolves, I’m not entirely ignorant,” Mick said, “For example, we know that last night’s attack didn’t happen on a full moon. Therefore, we’re looking for a pureblood.”

  
You snapped the folder shut, “You think? It’s like a milk run to me.”

Mick was unintimidated by your aggressive attitude. He stood straight up, hands in his pockets, “Then you don’t mind if I tag along?”

  
Sam stuttered, “Mick, um . . . listen. I don’t think hunting is really you’re kind of thing.”

  
Mick had regret spelled out all across his face, “Oh, no, maybe it should be. I had the best team, but most of us, we were thinkers, not fighters. And let’s be honest,” he said looking at Sam, “You and your mum, you’re the only reason I’m still alive.”

  
“So now you wanna be like us?” you asked. 

  
“No. I just want to be ready for whatever’s next,” he replied defensively. 

  
Your girl joined in the conversation, “Come on guys, can’t you see? He just wants to protect those that he cares about. He doesn’t want to go into another battle unprepared and ill equipped to deal with the situation. I’m sure you two can relate.”

  
“Exactly,” Mick said in agreement. 

  
You ran a hand through your hair, “Fine, but hurry up. I’m ready to blow this joint.”

  
The three of you stepped out into the hallway while Mick packed up a few belongings from his office. You looked back and forth between her and Sam, “Are we seriously going to let him come with us? I mean, come on doll, he’s dead weight.”

  
Sam defended him, “Sure, he’s inexperienced, but he does have serious knowledge about what we’re facing.”

  
Your girl looked at you pleadingly, “Dean, this is going to be a life changing experience for him. This is when Mick realizes that the code that he’s following, isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. It’s going to be a positive change in his life that will ultimately help us.”

  
“Mick did hold his own with the alpha. Let’s give him a fair shot, “Sam added. 

  
You scoffed, “And what if he gets himself killed?”

  
Mick had finally made his way to the door, carrying two big, black cases, “I heard that.”

  
“Good,” you replied sternly, “All right, if he’s coming, you two are babysitting him.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

Dean didn’t trust Mick to sit in the back with you, so he insisted you ride shotgun with him while Sam took a seat with the Brit. You all were cruising down the road in Baby a little faster than normal. Dean was eager to get to your destination and be as far away from Mick as possible. Sam was using a flashlight to read one of the books that Mick had grabbed from his personal library. You and Dean shared an annoyed look as a monotone voice droned on and on about Martin Luther from Mick’s phone. 

  
Dean huffed, “Had to let him listen to his podcast, huh?”

  
This was enough to make Mick turn off his phone. Sam chimed in, “Dude, it’s educational. And, besides, I’ve been wanting to listen to this one.”

  
You and Dean gave Sam a disgusted look. You turned halfway around in the seat to look at Sam, “Yeah, but it’s dangerous to our health. It’s making my ears bleed and I’m pretty sure Dean is about to fall asleep at the wheel, which means we all die in a fiery crash.”

  
Mick spoke to Sam, “You know, monks like Martin Luther are among the earliest hunters. He even wrote parts of that book you’re holding.”

  
“What? This lore dates back to the sixteenth century?” Sam asked. 

  
Mick nodded, “Yeah. Well, in Europe, everything’s old. Though we do have our fair share of new tricks for dealing with wolves. Sulfate gas. Silver nitrate for lethal injection.”

  
“Take a handful of silver bullets over any of that fancy crap,” Dean said, eyes focused on the road in front of him. 

  
Mick sighed in frustration, “Yes, well, thanks to that “fancy crap,” Britain’s last werewolf outbreak was in the twenties. We rooted them out, bitten and pureblood alike.”

  
“Wait a second,” Sam said, “You killed them all? Even the ones that weren’t hurting anyone?”

  
Mick scoffed, “Sorry?”

  
Sam went on, “I mean, werewolves aren’t like most monsters. Some can control it. I mean, we have a buddy that got bit. Nothing but beef hearts ever since.”

  
“And you trust him?” Mick asked indignantly. 

  
“I’d trust him with my life,” you answered, “He’s a little quirky, but still the same guy he was before he got bit.”

  
“Well, killing is a fundamental need for werewolves,” Mick argued, “And monsters don’t just stop being monsters.”

  
“Well, Garth did,” Dean added. 

  
You nodded your head earnestly, “Exactly. Killing isn’t a fundamental need. Sure, they need hearts to survive, but they don’t have to be human. I mean, if you asked a cow or a chicken, they’d say us humans were monsters for killing them. It’s all about one’s perspective.”

  
Mick quit debating and leaned forward to speak to Dean, “Oh, turn here.”

  
Dean did so and soon, Baby was roaring into the circular entrance of the “Wild Elk Lodge”. Dean put Baby in park and turned off the engine. Everyone got out of the car and you leaned against the passenger door next to Sam as Dean came around to stand on the other side of his brother.

  
Sam took in the nice hotel, noticing the doorman, the extravagant foyer and just how clean everything was, “This place, uh, seems a little . . .”

  
“Shabby?” Mick asked, “Yeah. Three stars was the best I could do. Least our bean counters will be happy. Booked us all suites.”

  
Sam opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, “Wait, you . . . We’re all in separate rooms?”

  
Mick looked at Sam as if he wouldn’t dare to share a room with another person, “Yeah, of course.”

  
Dean was curious, “Did you say three stars?”

  
“Yeah,” Mick answered. 

  
“So, we’re talking fresh towels, little baby shampoos?” Dean asked. 

  
Mick replied, “Uh-huh. And I believe there is a pool.”

  
Dean looked at you and you gave him a subtle wink. Mick turned around and thanked the doorman as he strolled into the lobby to get you all checked in. Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder before absentmindedly tossing him the keys to the Impala, “Get the bags.”

  
Sam grunted and attempted to catch the keys, but failed. Instead of following Dean, you stayed behind a few seconds to view what would happen next. You tapped Sam’s arm and pointed to Dean, “Hey, hey, hey. Watch this. He’s such a goof.”

You watched in amusement as Dean stopped at the concierge desk and shoved two big handfuls of mints into his jacket pocket, several of the candies falling to the floor. You chuckled lightly and saw Sam shaking his head disapproving out of the corner of your eye, “Does he really think he needs that many mints?”

  
You clicked your tongue, “I don’t know. But, if it makes him happy, I say go for it.”

  
Dean looked around and noticed that he was standing alone. He turned and saw that you were still outside. He crooked a finger in your direction, urging you to join him. You obeyed and the bellman opened the door for you to enter the hotel. He reached out his hand, which you happily accepted, and the two of you walked towards Mick to get your room keys. 

  
Sam had noticed how you had stared affectionately at his brother and the way Dean had stopped to look back for you. Before grabbing a luggage cart to bring your bags upstairs, he smiled to himself, because for the first time he realized, that you and his brother were in love. 

  
Mick wasn’t kidding when he said he got each of you your own room. Dean was flabbergasted when you actually took your own key and carried your bag into your separate suite, but you knew that he’d be over soon. The room was absolutely gorgeous. There was a gigantic king sized bed, a living area with two couches and a balcony. The bathroom had a luxurious walk in shower and a separate jacuzzi bathtub. You put your back in the closet and took off your shoes before there was a knock at the door. 

  
“_Well, that didn’t take too long_,” you thought victoriously. 

  
You opened the door, and were stunned to see Mick standing there, “Fancy a chat?”

  
“Oh, uh, um, yeah sure,” you replied, opening the door and gesturing for Mick to enter the room. 

  
You took seats on opposite couches and sat back, legs crossed, “So, what do you wanna talk about?”

  
“Frankly, you.”

  
“Oh?”

  
“Yes, (Y/N). I can tell you’re an intelligent woman and like you said, you don’t like to beat around the bush.”

  
“Is there a question in there?”

  
“I’m sure you can guess that when we Men of Letters do a job, we do it thoroughly. That includes investigating and getting to know everyone that we align ourselves with.”

  
“Smart move.”

  
“So, it should be no surprise, that we looked into you. We tried to dig into your past, but despite our best of the best efforts, there’s no intel about you until about three months ago.”

  
“Interesting,” you said, not giving anything away. 

  
Mick scratched his forehead, “Care to elaborate on why that is?”

  
“Not really. I’m happy with you all knowing as little about me as possible.”

  
“(Y/N), if we are going to trust and work with each other, I need you to give me something,” Mick begged. 

  
“Mick, look, I know you’re used to knowing everything about your colleagues. From their educational background to what kind of friggin’ toilet paper they use. But, I’m sorry, you’re not going to get that with me. I will tell you that this case isn’t going to be easy, but hopefully we can prevent any more deaths.”

  
He cocked his head, “How would you know that?”

  
“I’m psychic Mick. I can see the future,” you half-lied. 

  
“Oh come on, now you’re telling porkies.”

  
“What?” you asked perplexed.

  
“You’re pulling my leg.”

  
“Oh! No, I swear. It’s the truth. I’m psychic.”

  
“Okay then, well tell me something about me that you couldn’t know,” he requested as a test. 

  
“Fine. You were an orphan on the streets until you accidentally picked a member’s pocket. You were just looking for a little spare change, but you unintentionally got some kind of cursed coin, yeah?”

  
He stared at you quizzically, “It was Ancient Babylonian, yeah.”

  
“They decided you showed promised, so they offered to sign you up. That’s how you got involved with the Men of Letters.”

  
He peered down at the floor and then back to you, “Well, anyone could know that if they dug deep enough. Doesn’t prove anything. What else you got?”

  
“All right, you sure you wanna go there, Mick?”

  
“Sure, what have I got to lose.”

  
“I know about the nightmares you have sometimes,” you said quietly. Mick gave you a blank stare as you continued to speak in hushed tones, “Nightmares about the day that Dr. Hess forced you to kill the boy who was your best friend at the time. He wanted to run, to go find his father and tell him what Hess was trying to make the two of you do. But, you felt like you had no other choice but to follow whatever the code demanded.”

  
“How could you . . .”

  
“Psychic,” you said answering his unspoken question. 

  
“You know, you’re just leaving me with more questions than answers, right?”

  
“Oh, I’m just full of surprises. I promise to one day fill you in on all the details, but that’s not today.”

  
Mick started to protest, but suddenly there was another knock at the door. “_Great, if that’s Dean, he’s gonna be pissed,_” you thought. You stood up and went to see who was your next visitor while Mick remained seated. You swung open the wooden, ornately decorated door and were taken aback to see an employee standing there with a cart full of food, including a bucket of ice with champagne. 

  
“Room service,” the young man announced. 

  
He started to push the cart inside and you looked back at him puzzled, “Uh, I didn’t order any room service. Are you sure you have the right room?”

  
Before he could answer, you felt two familiar strong arms circle around your middle from behind. Dean whispered in your ear, “Yes, he does. I ordered it,” before nuzzling your neck. 

  
You giggled as his five o’clock shadow tickled the sensitive flesh. The moment was broken up by Mick clearing his throat, “Well, then, I guess I’ll be going. See you mates in the morning. It was lovely getting to know you (Y/N).”

  
Dean stood up straight behind you, but kept you in his embrace. He nodded cooly at Mick as he took his leave. You heard the busboy utter, “Awkward,” underneath his breath before he nodded and left the room as well, closing the door behind you. 

  
“Wanna tell me what that was about?” Dean asked in a judging tone. 

  
You sighed and turned around in his arms, placing your hands on his forearms, “Mick said he wanted to talk.”

  
Dean’s playful mood had vanished, “About?”

  
“Basically what your mother warned us about. He admitted they didn’t know much about me and was trying to get all of my state secrets.”

  
“And did he?”

  
“Yes, Dean. I told him everything about me including my blood type and first girlhood crush. We’re besties now. He’s coming back later so we can braid each other’s hair and make prank phone calls. Wanna join us?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “This isn’t funny, (Y/N).”

  
“It’s a little funny.”

  
“Seriously, what did you tell him?”

  
“All I did was tell him I was a psychic and that I would tell him everything one day.”

  
Dean patted you condescendingly on the head as if you were a dog, “Good girl. You lied.”

  
You shook him, “No, I only told a half truth. I do plan to tell him everything eventually. I trust him. But now is not the right time. Sometimes you have to hold back the whole truth from those you trust in order to help the greater good.”

  
“_Like I’m doing with you for Jack. I just hope you’ll understand and forgive me one day._”

  
“I’ve done that before,” he admitted. 

  
You decided to try and change the subject to something less serious, “So, room service, huh?”

  
His eyes lit up with excitement, “Oh yeah!” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the cart, “Since Frodo is floating the bill for this hunt, I decided we should live it up,” he explained as he started to take the lids off of the plates of food, “I got some steaks, chili cheese fries, burgers, pasta and one order of every dessert on their menu. Plus a little bubbly.”

  
He took the bottle of champagne out of the ice and opened it way more easily than you would’ve ever expected. He gave you a proud look as he poured the expensive liquor into two flutes and passed you one, “Here’s to dining on the Brit’s dime.”

  
You clinked your glass against his and took a long sip, “Awfully presumptuous that I would just allow you into my room to have dinner, huh?”

  
He pulled out a seat at the table and gestured for you to sit, “Would you rather have somebody else here right now?”

  
You sat down and waited for him to take his seat, “Well, there is this one guy I’m kind of interested in.”

  
“Oh yeah?”

  
“Yeah. He thinks he’s funny and charming, but really he’s just a big dork,” you explained as Dean look insulted, “He’s a little bossy and hardheaded, but on the inside he’s a big softy. And I think he might just be my favorite person in the world.”

  
“Sounds like a lucky guy,” Dean asked as he started to cut into his steak.

  
You stretched your leg forward and rubbed your foot up and down Dean’s lower leg, “You should tell him that.”

  
Dean licked his lips, “I’ll be sure to remind him.”

  
The two of you spent the next hour gorging yourselves on the decadent food until you could no longer possibly stuff another bite down your gullet. Dean sat the cart with the empty dishes outside and you slipped off your jeans and bra before crawling underneath the covers and flopping onto your back. Dean shed his socks, shoes and jeans as well before joining you in just his boxers and customary black t-shirt. 

  
You reached down and took his hand in yours. He grumbled, “I am stuffed.”

You rubbed your stomach, “Me too, I may have ate too much.”

  
“No such thing, babe.”

  
“So, tomorrow . . .”

  
“Yeah?” He replied curiously, turning his head to look at you. 

  
You met his gaze, “We can fill Sam in on the details in the morning, but basically, I think I have a plan figured out. I know we’re planning to see Hayden and when I saw the situation go down, you and Sam pretend to be FBI agents and didn’t allow Mick to speak to Hayden’s mother.”

  
“No way, that dude has never interrogated someone before.”

  
“Hayden’s mother wasn’t too thrilled about you two trying to question her and you two almost got shut out. That’s when Mick comes in as a doctor to examine Hayden. This allowed you and Sam to step outside with Ms. Foster. However, since Mick was the only one in the room with Hayden, he was the only one that saw she was bit. He lied to you and Sam about her being injured and went back later to kill her.”

  
Dean shook his head furiously, “That colonial son of a bitch. I knew we couldn’t trust him.”

  
“He did regret it later on though. However, I figure if you pretend that you want me to stay behind with him, I can pretend to be a nurse and go in with him to examine Hayden, that way he can’t lie about her being bit.”

  
“You just miss wearing those scrubs, don’t you?”

  
You replied sarcastically, “Oh yeah, the scrubs are what I miss most about my old job. Definitely, Dean.”

  
Dean gave you a small smile before getting serious once again, “So, Hayden is bit?”

  
“Yeah,” you answered dejectedly. 

  
“What’s that big brain of yours think about that? Any idea how to fix it?” he asked tapping a finger against your forehead. 

  
“Unfortunately no, nothing that’s not a long shot. Maybe we can come back later tomorrow night with Mick and try to reason with Hayden. Maybe he won’t have to kill her?” 

  
Dean sighed heavily, “I don’t know. We’ll have to just see how it all plays out.”

  
You rolled over and nestled into the crook of Dean’s welcoming arms, your hand drawing random patterns over his chest, “So, you spending the night?”

His fingers ghosted up and down your back, “Well, I did cook you dinner. Doesn’t that get a guy a bed to sleep in for the night?”

  
You sighed dramatically, “I guess.”

  
Dean pretended to try and get up, “I mean, if you don’t want me here . . .”

  
You pushed his chest back down, “Come back here, idjit. I’m too comfortable to move anyway.” You titled your head up and gave him a long, burning kiss before resting your cheek back on his torso, “Night, lover boy.”

  
“Night, brainiac.”

  
The next morning, you woke up alone in bed. You decided to follow Dean’s lead and ordered breakfast from room service before hopping in the shower. You managed to get cleaned up and dressed in your business attire before your food arrived. You were just starting to dig into your omelette and sausage when Dean came rushing in, dressed in one of the hotel’s bathrobes. 

  
He slammed the door quickly behind him, “Where’s your bag?”

  
“Uh . . . It’s in the closet,” you answered. That’s when you noticed that his arms were piled high with mini plastic bottles. You chuckled in disbelief, “Dean . . Are those . . . ?”

  
He nodded victoriously as he went in search of your bag, “Shampoo and shower gel? Yeah. Found am unattended maid’s cart.”

  
You took a drink of your coffee, “Did you leave any for the other guests?”

  
He dumped the contents in his arms into your bag, zipped it up and shut the closet doors, “I don’t know. Was more of a “snatch and run” type of deal.”

  
“You’re a dork you know that,” you smiled.

  
“All right, well then don’t ask me to use any of it when we get home.”

  
“What if we use it together?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows. 

  
He clicked his tongue, “Deal! So, what’s all this?”

  
“Well I figured since you got dinner, I’d get breakfast. Speaking of, where were you?”

  
“Decided to try out the pool. Thanks for the heads up on the swimming trunks babe,” he said as he came over to give you a quick kiss before sitting down to join you for the first meal of the day. 

  
“You’re welcome. Better hurry up and eat. We got twenty minutes before we’re supposed to meet Sam and Mick downstairs to head to the hospital.”

  
“Yeah, I ran into Sam in the hallway. He was heading back from the gym, so I was able to fill him in on what you told me last night,” he replied as he poured himself a cup of black coffee. 

  
“Are you sure you don’t want anything to sweeten that up with?”

  
“Nope, I like it black like my soul,” he answered with a wink.

  
“Fine, you guzzle down your hot bean water,” you said taking a sip of your own coffee, “I’m going to enjoy mine with cream and sugar, because I’m not a psychopath.”

  
He took a big gulp just to mess with you and the two of you enjoyed your breakfast in comfortable silence. 

  
When Dean was finally dressed and looking delicious in his suit, you took the elevator downstairs and were unsurprised to find Sam already waiting for you. The three of you walked outside and took in the crisp, morning air. Dean stood in the middle between you and Sam while you all waited for the valet to bring around Baby. 

  
Dean was still in awe of the hotel, “Man! Those pillows, right? The little chocolates that they put on? I mean, I’m ruined, Sam. Plus, I got extra since each of us got a room, right babe?”

  
“I love that you’re so easy to please,” you answered. 

  
He pulled you in close to his side, “Oh, I’m very easily pleased by you.”

  
Sam backhanded Dean on his arm, “Guys, it’s like nine in the morning.”

  
“And?” you and Dean both replied in unison. 

  
Dean gave you a quick peck on the lips, “I’m telling you, those limey sons of bitches ruined me. I even took a swim this morning, Sammy.”

  
“So, what’d you do last night, Sam?” you asked. 

  
“I read through more of Mick’s lore books,” Sam replied matter-of-factly. 

  
Dean shook his head, “Really? Wow. Those three stars are wasted on you.”

  
Sam brushed off Dean’s insult, “Anyways, listen to this. It’s crazy. So, apparently, back in the thirties, they were working on this treatment for werewolves.”

  
“Oh yeah, like a plasma therapy right?” you queried. 

  
Mick came out the door as you were speaking, “Yeah, we were. But, it was useless, I’m afraid.” He made eye contact with the three of you, saving you for last, “So, how were your accommodations lads and lady?”

  
The familiar and comforting sound of the Impala’s engine purring up to the hotel’s entrance signaled that the valet had returned. Dean was immediately back in defensive mode, “I’ve had better nights sleep in my Baby.”

  
Dean’s back was to you, so you took the opportunity to give Mick a thumbs up before pointing to Dean and mouthing, “Don’t listen to him.”

  
Mick and Sam tried to hide their smiles, but Dean noticed they were staring at you. He turned around and you put on a straight face, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

  
Dean eyed you suspiciously before ordering everyone to get in the Impala. Mick went to take his seat in the back and patted you on the elbow as he passed. 

  
Dean noticed, “What’s that all about?” he asked after Mick had shut the door. 

  
“Nothing, Dean. Just making new friends,” you reassured him before sliding into the front, passenger seat. 

  
On the ride over to the hospital, Mick asked if you knew anything about the case yet, such as if Hayden had been bit or who the werewolf was that bit her. Sam looked at you quizzically and you explained that you had revealed that you were psychic when you had a chat with Mick last night. You apologized to Mick and lied, saying that nothing had come to you yet about the case. 

  
Soon enough, the four of you were standing outside of the sixteen year old’s hospital room, observing her mother at her bedside and a young nurse with fair features checking the IV pump. The intercom above beeped with an announcement calling for a “_Dr. Collins to the E.R., Dr. Collins to the E.R._” You shifted nervously from one foot to the other, your mind occupied with various scenarios of how today’s events could go down. 

  
The nurse sauntered out of the room and past your little group. Mick started to enter the room, but Sam placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him, “Wait, wait. Let us. Talking to a grieving family, it’s tougher than you think.”

  
Mick was optimistic, “Oh, I’m a quick study.”

  
“Well, good for you. Okay, stay here, keep watch,” Dean ordered looking first at Mick, then to you, “You stay here with him, make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. Anything comes up . . . I don’t know, whistle.”

  
Dean and Sam entered the room before either of you could protest any further. You and Mick looked at one another insulted, of course yours was faked because this was the plan you had concocted earlier with the brothers. You looked around the hallways and spotted a supply cart, “Here, I have an idea.”

  
Mick looked at you curiously and followed you down the hallway. You pulled back the robin blue curtain and were pleased to find a white lab coat and some extra scrubs. You and Mick quickly got dressed and marched back towards Hayden’s room. You and Mick triumphantly returned in your disguises, just as as Ms. Foster was telling Sam and Dean that Hayden needed her rest. 

  
You circled around the bed and Mick grabbed the chart off the end of the bed, “Good morning. And how is our patient today?”

  
Ms. Foster was perplexed, “I’m sorry. Who are you two?”

  
“Dr. Buckingham. Hayden’s attending doctor, Dr. Markum, asked me to look in on her, “ Mick explained. 

  
You smiled brightly, “And the other nurse had to step out for a little bit, so I’m going to be keeping my eye on Hayden. My name’s Taylor.”

  
“Um, would it be okay to ask you just to step outside for a moment?” Mick asked. 

  
“We’re just going to do our own assessment of Hayden’s injuries,” you explained. 

  
Ms. Foster paused for a brief moment then nodded her head, “I, um . . . Of, course.”

  
“Thank you,” Mick replied. 

  
You reassured the middle aged mother, “Don’t worry, it won’t take too long. 

  
After the boys left the room as well, Mick gave you a wink as he tugged on the curtain to block you and him from view so you could assess Hayden in private.

Mick began to pull back her bandages and she began to stir. She asked groggily, “Where’s my mom?”

  
Mick gave her a warm smile, “Your mum’s just outside. Just gonna take a quick look, make sure you’re okay. You’re a brave girl.”

  
“I don’t know what happened. It was so fast,” Hayden said, almost in a daze. 

  
“You’ve had quite a shock,” Mick replied. 

  
You reached out and gave Hayden’s right hand a reassuring squeeze, “Don’t worry, we’ll let you get back to rest here shortly.”

  
You looked down at the petite teenager and couldn’t believe that the werewolf would be cowardice enough to attack such a weak girl. As Mick continued to examine her wounds, you thought to yourself, “_Poor kid. She lost her brother and now her mother might lose her too. It’s not fair. She’s so young. What are we gonna do? I wish there was something I could do. It’s just not right that she is going to die because a pathetic werewolf doesn’t want to live without a pack. I just wish I could fix you._”

  
Suddenly, the hand that was holding hers began to heat up, so much so that Hayden noticed, “Wow, you have a warm touch.”

  
Mick gazed at you, intrigued, as he started to remove the bandage you remembered would show her bite. You held your breath as he disappointingly realized that she had been bitten by the werewolf. He uttered under his breath, “Oh, no.”

Unexpectedly, you felt tingling as a force flowed out from you towards Hayden. When it did, you were shocked to see her bitemark start to disappear. The blood that pooled in the teeth marks faded away and her skin healed so there wasn’t even a scar. 

  
Mick’s eyes went wide, “What the . . .”

  
He unnecessarily covered the area back up and pulled out a pen from his pocket, mouthing “Silver,” before tentatively touching it to her skin, but there was no reaction. Suddenly, you felt woozy and lightheaded. Hayden didn’t seem to register that her bite had just miraculously healed, but she did notice the change in your demeanor, “Are you okay, nurse?”

  
Your mouth was dry, but you managed to choke out, “Yeah, just um, I haven’t breakfast. I’m gonna go get some water. Be back in a little while, sweetheart. Just use your call light if you need anything.”

  
You finally dropped her hand and used the bed to support yourself as you slowly stumbled out of the room, doing your best not to trip over your own feet. When you crossed through the doorway, Dean noticed that you were struggling to walk and came over to help you, “Here, nurse, you don’t look so hot. Let me help you get to a chair.”

  
“Thanks, detective,” you replied weakly. 

  
You heard Mick follow you out of the hospital room and he and Sam spoke with Ms. Foster while Dean assisted you down the hallway into the waiting room, “What happened in there? Are you okay?”

  
You nodded, no longer having the strength to say anything back to him. Dean was practically carrying you by the time you made it to the waiting room. Luckily, it was empty. He gingerly helped you to sit down on one of the salmon pink couches. Sam and Mick quickly caught up to you and when they did, Dean ordered Sam to go get you a bottle of water. You leaned forward, head in between your knees, trying to regain your composure. You could feel Dean reassuringly patting your leg as he stooped down in front of you. 

  
“What the hell was that?” Mick asked in a panic. 

  
“What?” Dean replied. 

  
“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,” Mick said, almost to himself. 

  
“Spit it out. What happened in there? What’d you do?” Dean questioned the Brit, his anger becoming more apparent. 

  
“Me?” Mick asked incredulously, “I didn’t do anything. She . . . She . . . That girl had a bite. One touch from (Y/N) here and it just completely went away.”

“Did you take a handful of crazy pills this morning?”

  
“I’m not lying. That teenager was bitten and it disappeared in front of my own bloody eyes.”

  
You heard footsteps enter the room and looked up just long enough to graciously accept a bottle of water from the younger Winchester. You opened it up and took a long swig before sinking back into the couch, closing your eyes once again to stop the room from spinning. 

  
“Is that true, (Y/N)?” Sam queried. 

  
You sighed heavily and spoke quietly, “I don’t know. I just, I . . . I saw the bite and thought about that poor girl and how young she was and I . . . I just desperately wanted to fix her.”

  
Dean stood and sat beside you, pulling you into his side so you could rest your head against him, “Are we sure the girl didn’t just turn and heal the wound herself?

  
“No, no way. All of her other scratches were still there. What was that, (Y/N)?” Mick replied. 

  
“Honestly, I don’t know,” you answered. 

  
You could feel Mick take the seat on your other side, “Has anything like this happened before?”

  
You were finally able to open your eyes and looked to Sam and Dean, thinking about the time you were possessed by a demon, but no way in hell you were about to tell Mick that, “Nope. Never happened before.”

  
Mick was stunned, “This is, I, I just don’t know what to make of it.”

  
Dean came to your defense, “We don’t even know what it means or what really happened. We should come back tonight and make sure she doesn’t turn.”

  
“Exactly,” Sam said in agreement. 

  
Mick changed the subject for the time being, “What did you two find out from the mother?”

  
You took another drink of your water as Dean started to speak, “Mother’s clueless about the whole situation. Doesn’t know why her kids would be out and about that late at night.”

  
“What about, uh, Fish and Wildlife Services? Think it’s another hunter?” Sam asked. 

  
Dean answered, “Young, blonde, pissed off. Sound like anybody we know?”

  
This caused you to slightly smile, “Awww, yay. I’m gonna get to meet Claire.”

  
Dean whispered in your ear, “Think you can walk to the car?”

  
“I might need some help,” you admitted regretfully. 

  
Dean wrapped an arm around your middle and helped you stand slowly, “Come on, nerd. I got you.”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
The wind had been knocked out of your lungs when you saw her shakily stumble out of the hospital room. She was as pale as a ghost and looked like she was about to blow chunks right then and there. You helped her keep her balance as the four of you made your way to the parking garage, tossing the keys to Sam and ordering him and Mick to sit up front so she could lay down with her head in your lap. You brushed the hair out of her face and stroked her cheek with your knuckles, her eyes closing as she leaned into your gentle touch. 

  
“You okay?” you asked. 

  
“Yeah, just really tired,” she mumbled. 

  
You and Sam shared a concerned look through the rear view mirror before you replied back to her, “Don’t worry, you can take a nap when we get back to the hotel.”

  
You continued to caress during the ride and helped her back to the room once you arrived back at the Wild Elk Lodge. You momentarily fumbled with her keycard before successfully opening up her room door. She wiggled out of your arms and collapsed onto the bed. 

  
“Shit,” she groaned rolling over to her back. 

  
“What? What’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself?”

  
She pulled at her clothes, “No, I just realized I’m a thief. I stole these scrubs from the hospital.”

  
You sighed in relief and began to help her take her shoes off, “That should be the least of your worries.” You pulled back the covers and ushered her underneath, “Just get some rest and we’ll meet up with Sam and Mick later for dinner. You look like shit,” you added with a playful wink. 

  
“Charming as ever Dean-o.” 

  
You leaned down to give her a kiss on her forehead and just before she fell asleep, she reminded you, “Hey, don’t forget to call Claire.”

  
She curled up in a fetal position, too exhausted to take off any of her other clothes. Her breathing quickly became slow and even as she drifted off into a deep slumber. You pulled your phone and the business card that Hayden’s mother had given you out of your jacket pocket and went out onto the balcony to make your call in private. 

  
You dialed the number, the line ringing three times before the young, female, wannabe hunter answered nervously, “Hello? Uh, this is agent Beatrice Quimby.”

  
You couldn’t resist messing with her as you replied in an exaggerated Canadian accent, “Oh, thank God! There’s a bear. It’s the size of a freakin’ tank!” You imitated Yogi bear, “I think it wants my pic-a-nic basket.”

You could feel Claire rolling her eyes at you, “Mm-hmm. Hi, Dean. How’d you get this number?”

  
“Hey kid. I think we’re in the same area. Might even be on the same case. Meet up with us at the Wild Elk Lodge at five thirty?”

  
“Sure, why not. See you later grandpa,” she teased before hanging up. 

  
You tucked your phone into the front pocket of your pants and walked back inside. (Y/N) was still sleeping, so you decided to go to your room and get out of the FBI duds. However, as soon as you stepped out into the hallway, you heard raised voices coming from Sam’s room. You approached his door cautiously and knocked. Your brother opened the door, obviously flustered, and you noticed that Mick was pacing back and forth in his living room. 

  
Mick gazed over and saw that it was you at the door. He waved you in, “Good, you! Get in here too.”

  
You looked at Sam before stepping inside, “Uh, what’s going on in here? You two having a lover’s quarrel?”

  
Sam gave you a bitchface, “We were talking about (Y/N) and what happened back at the hospital.”

  
“She cured that girl. I know it!” Mick exclaimed. 

  
You shook your head, still in denial, “We don’t know that for sure.”

  
Mick was certain of his accusations, “I know what I saw with my own bloody eyes. The girl was bit. (Y/N) touched her and poof, her bite disappeared. I mean, what the hell is she?”

  
“She told you, she’s a psychic,” you said, trying to placate him. 

  
“Malarkey!” Mick shouted, approaching you.

  
Sam held out his hands, separating the distance between you and the Brit, “Mick, uh, come on man, just calm down.”

  
Mick stared at Sam wild eyed, “Calm down? Calm down? I feel like you two are trying to mug me!” 

  
“We’re not trying to steal anything from you Mick,” Sam replied. 

  
“No,” he replied exasperated, “I mean that you two are pulling the wool over my eyes. What exactly are you hiding from me? Is she some sort of a monster too?”

  
“No!” you and Sam answered in unison. 

  
You went on to clarify, “She is most definitely not a monster. She just has some special abilities . . . apparently.”

  
Mick started to leave the room, “Where is she? I need her to give me some answers.”

  
You stepped into his path, blocking him, “She’s sleeping,” you announced sternly, “Let her rest. We can talk more about it later.”

  
Sam was continuing to try and be the peacemaker, “Come on, Mick. She’s the one that’s trusted you the most out of all of us, so just give her the benefit of the doubt.”

  
Mick shook his head, “This is absolutely bonkers.” He let out a deep breath, “Fine. I know we have plans to meet downstairs for a drink in the lounge at five thirty, so don’t be late.”

  
Mick moved past you and left the room, slamming the door a little harder than necessary. Sam’s calm demeanor dissipated and he gazed desperately at you, “What that hell was that Dean?

  
“Look, we aren’t for sure that whatever happened in that room wasn’t a part of the girl wolfing out. I mean who the hell touches a werewolf and heals them?”

  
Sam shrugged his shoulders.

  
“Exactly. So, until we know more, let’s try not to freak out. If things get really hairy, we can call Cas and demand some answers. Maybe he’ll listen to us.”

  
“I wish he would. I keep holding on to hope because of the letter you showed me, but, I’m about at my breaking point with not knowing whatever is up with her.”

  
“Me too, Sammy. Me too,” you admitted. 

  
You finally changed out of your monkey suit and into some comfortable clothes before returning to her room. She was snoring softly, sprawled across the bed with one arm thrown above her head and mouth agape. You remembered the camera you saw in her bag earlier and pulled it out to snap a couple of pictures, “_Blackmail. Heh heh._”

  
At five o’clock, you decided to wake her so she could get ready to go downstairs, “Hey sleeping beauty, time to get up.”

  
She groaned in protest, “Ungh, five more minutes, Prince Charming.”

  
“Come on princess, we gotta be downstairs in thirty minutes. Thought I’d let you change out of that outfit and get your bearings together before we head down there.”

  
Her eyes slowly opened and you were comforted to see the shine that was missing just a few hours ago had returned and her cheeks were once again rosy pink. She peered down at the scrubs covering her FBI outfit, “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll start a new fashion trend.”

  
She rose up slowly from the bed and swung her legs out to the side. You held out your hands to help her stand, which she happily held. Surprisingly, she didn’t waver or need much support from you as she stood and made her way over to her bag in the closet. 

  
She was rustling around in her bag, “Mothertrucker, I must be off my game.”

  
You chortled at her phrasing, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  
She turned, holding a pair of jeans over one arm, “I don’t have an extra top to wear. I mean, I have what I wore here yesterday, but I didn’t pack any extras. I could have swore I had at least a few extra shirts in here.”

  
“Well have no fear, I can help with that. You can borrow one of my flannels.”

  
“Really? Sure you don’t mind?”

  
You gave her a wink, “Trust me, it’ll be my pleasure.”

  
At 5:20pm, you strolled hand in hand with your girl into the motel bar and took seats next to one another one of the leather brown love seats. The green and black striped flannel hung loosely off of her, but it was one of the sexiest things she’d ever wore. You scooted close to her, legs touching and placed a possessive hand around her back, “_Mine_.” Shortly thereafter, Sam and Claire joined you, sitting on the opposite, matching love seat. Introductions were made between your girl and Claire. 

  
(Y/N) leaned forward to shake the young blonde’s hand, “Claire, it’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  
Claire took her hand and shook it back and forth several times, “You too. Jody said she’s been talking to you. Says you’re some kind of psychic, huh? How about you tell me the winning Powerball numbers?”

  
Your girl laughed, “Sorry, not that kind of psychic.”

  
Claire sat back her eyes fluttering back and forth between you and (Y/N) inquisitively, “Too bad.”

  
“So Fish and Wildlife? Really?” you asked.

  
Sam chimed in, “Claire, what are you doing here?”

  
“Same as you. Werewolf case,” she replied. 

  
Mick appeared with four beers and a can of Sprite, “Now. Beers all around. (Y/N), I didn’t know if you’d feel like drinking, so I thought you might want something light on your stomach.”

  
“Thanks Mick,” your girl replied with a warm smile.

  
Claire stared at the stranger, “Who are you?”

  
  


Mick held out his hand, “Oh, Mick Davies. Men of Letters. British,” he explained before taking a seat on the empty couch to your right. 

  
You held up a hand, “Long story. And like, “_Downton Abbey_” boring, so . . .”

  
Claire leaned forward and reached for one of the beers on the table in front of you, but you stopped her, “No. Unh-unh.”

  
The minor dropped her hand to her knee and sat back, annoyed and frustrated, “Okay. Anyway . . . I’ve been on this a day. And guess what? The girl, Hayden? Her story about what happened the night of the attack? One big lie.”

  
Sam nodded in agreement, “Her mom said the same thing.”

  
“Where was she?” you queried. 

  
Claire answered, “She was at the local diver bar, gettin’ trashed. I tracked her phone and asked around and . . . bartenders love me. It’s a gift.” 

  
“Right. You get anything else?” Sam asked. 

  
Claire made a disgusted face, “The guy I talked to was a scumbag. Tribal tat. Motorcycle. Grabby.”

  
You unintentionally went into defensive mode, “Grabby?”

  
“I’m a big girl, I handled it,” she replied. 

  
Mick joined in on the conversation, “Right, so (Y/N), do you have any more insight into what’s going on or who our target might be?”

  
(Y/N) took a deep breath, “Actually, yes. It’s one of the bartenders at the bar Hayden went to.”

  
“The grabby one?” Claire asked. 

  
Your girl shook her head, “No, there’s another one. Looks like a boy band reject. I had a vision that he’s doing all of this because some of the British Men of Letters attacked his pack, but he managed to get away. Now, he’s trying to create his own family, so to speak.”

  
“So that’s why he killed the brother and left Hayden alive?” Mick concluded. 

  
“Exactly,” (Y/N) replied. 

  
You could tell Mick was trying to be cordial, but was still on edge from today’s events, “Okay gents, I propose we meet up at ten tonight and head back to the hospital to check on Hayden. (Y/N), you still owe me some answers.”

  
Your girl rubbed her hands nervously together, “Look, if she is still a werewolf, I saw a vision where she’ll turn tonight. If she doesn’t, then she’s out of the woods and I guess I’m in the hot seat.”

  
Mick stood up and started to leave, “All right, sounds fair. Well, I’m off to file my report for the day.”

  
(Y/N) grabbed his hand, “Mick, can you leave the part out about, you know.” The Brit looked like he wanted to argue, but she begged, “Please. Please, Mick. Don’t mention what happened. Just for now.”

  
“Fine. I won’t,” Mick answered before walking away. 

  
Claire had been sitting silent, listening to the conversation, “Don’t mention what? And why are you all going back to the hospital?”

  
“It’s a long story, but we’re not sure if Hayden was bit or not. She may or may not turn tonight,” you replied. 

  
“Well, then I’m coming with you,” she said. 

  
Sam spoke, “Claire . . . “

  
“No, no way,” she protested, “I was on this case before any of you. I’m not siting out.”

  
“Why are you alone?” Sam asked, changing the subject.

  
Claire looked down at the ground nervously, “Jody’s busy with sheriff stuff. She said to call if I found anything.”

  
“So you called her?” Sam asked suspiciously. 

  
“You called first,” she replied a little too quickly, “And she’s great by the way. And so is Alex. So, the hospital . . .”

  
You held up a hand, “Take it easy, Clarice. We’ll go tonight when it’s not so busy.”

  
Sam patted Claire on the shoulder, “By the way, when’s the last time you had a hot meal that didn’t come from a gas-n-sip microwave?”

  
“Not that that’s anything wrong with that,” you said, insulted by Sam’s judgmental tone. 

  
Claire pursed her lips together, “It’s been a while.”

  
You cleared your throat and grabbed the menu off the table in front of you to pass to her, “Well . . go nuts. It’s on, uh, Harry Potter.”

  
Claire laughed, “Cool. Speaking of, you’re foreign exchange student is totally lame.”

  
You grinned, “Yeah, he’s Sam’s best friend. They’re nerd soulmates.”

  
You girl stood up and motioned to Claire, “Come on, we can go up to the bar and order some food. I’m assuming you boys are hungry and I know I’m starving.” You started to tell her what you wanted, but she cut you off, patting you on the shoulder, “Trust me, Dean, I know what you all like to eat.”

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You and Claire traipsed up to the bar, perusing the menu as you waited for the bartender to come take your order. 

  
“So, exactly how much do you know about me?” you asked Claire. 

  
“What do you mean?” she replied innocently. 

  
“Come on, Claire, I’m sure Jody has told you things.”

  
She was contemplative for several seconds before answering in hushed tones, “Okay, so she did tell me you were from another world and all that, but she wasn’t sure if I should know.”

  
“It’s fine,” you reassured her, “I know I can trust you. Besides, if you tell anyone, I’ll just sic Dean on you.”

  
She chuckled, “Yeah, Jody told me about that too. So, even knowing about his past, you still wanna be with him?”

  
You couldn’t help but to beam ear to ear, “Abso-fucking-lutely. He’s a good guy. But, sometimes I still can’t believe he’s with me.”

  
“From what I’ve heard, you’re not too bad. Plus, ever since we’ve been standing here, he can’t keep his eyes off of you.”

  
“Really?” you asked before turning around to see Dean checking you out. He caught your glance and gave you wink, his lips pulling up on one side of his mouth. 

You turned back around, trying to hide your blush. Claire shook her head, “Ugh, are you two like this all the time.”

  
“Pretty much.”

  
“Poor Sam. So, what was it that you wanted Mick to keep out of his report?”

  
“Would you believe me if I said nothing important?”

  
“No. No way.”

  
You knew you could trust Claire, so you explained exactly what went down at the hospital earlier that day and she was captivated by your story. When you were done she asked, “Do you know how you did that?”

  
“No, I’m just as baffled as everyone else.”

  
“So that’s the real reason they want to go back and check her out again tonight. Remind me not to piss you off, who knows what you could do.”

  
You nudged her shoulder, “That’s right. Speaking of, I hope you do realize that I know that Jody thinks you’re off looking at colleges.” She looked away guilty, but you continued to speak, “Look, I know that Jody has been a little . . . overprotective.”

  
“Suffocating is more like it,” she corrected. 

  
“Whatever. It’s because she cares about you, not that it makes it right. I know you can handle yourself, but Jody at least deserves the truth. Trust me, she’ll be understanding.”

  
Finally, the bartender wandered over to you and you ordered another round of drinks and practically everything off of the menu, including a chicken Cesar wrap for Sam, mini pretzel burgers, several orders of hot wings and nachos. After dinner, you and Dean chilled out in your room, letting Claire take his for the duration of the hunt. You snuggled up on the couch watching a movie until it was time to go check on Hayden. You opted to stay behind, since there were already four other hunters going and, if you were being honest with yourself, you still weren’t feeling back to your baseline health status. He held your face in between his hands and gave you several long, deep kisses before leaving to meet up with the others. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“Not really being inconspicuous are we?” you asked the rest of the Scooby gang while peering around the hallway corner, waiting for Ms. Foster to leave her daughter’s hospital room. 

  
You switched spots with Sam, who was sitting in a chair nearby, so he could take over watching for when the coast was clear. 

  
“If that girl does turn, at least there’ll be plenty of us,” Mick noted. 

  
Sam whistled, “Guys, the mom is taking a call. It’s now or never.”

  
The four of you slinked quietly but quickly down the hallway. Sam and Claire stood on the lookout just outside while you and Mick entered the room to examine Hayden, who appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Mick started to pull a syringe from his pocket, but you swiftly grabbed his wrist. 

  
“What are you doing?” you hissed angrily. 

  
“It’s silver nitrate. Just in case she turns.”

  
You snatched the syringe out of his hand and tucked it into your jacket pocket, “We are not killing this girl.”

  
“She could be a monster!”

  
“Then we’ll give her a chance before we end her life!”

  
Hayden stirred, “Hey, what’s going on? Doctor, is everything okay?” she asked, looking to Mick. 

  
“Everything’s fine, dear,” he said approaching the bed to remove one of her bandages, “My resident and I just wanted to come check on your wounds.” Mick pulled back the dressing and you were equally relieved and worried to see that her scratches were still healing. Mick procured a pen from his pocket and ran it across her arm, “See here, Dr. Smith, this is the one that is going to take the longest to heal.”

  
You nodded, playing your part in the little ruse. Mick taped her bandage back down to her arm just as Claire tapped on the door, “Guys, we gotta go.”

  
Mick patted her on the arm, “See you later, sweetheart.” Hayden smiled weakly and closed her eyes once more. 

  
The four of your scurried back down the hall, out of sight just as Ms. Foster returned from making her phone call. You turned to Mick, “What was that all about?”

  
“That pen is silver. I was testing her,” he explained. 

  
Over the next few hours, the four of you took turns watching the room for any sign that Hayden would wolf out. When 3:00am rolled around, you all resigned to the fact that she wasn’t going to change and whatever your girl had done in that room, had worked. 

  
On the ride back to the hotel, Mick interrogated you from the backseat, “Are you gents really okay with not knowing how (Y/N) healed a blimey werewolf?”

  
You and Sam shared a concerned look before you answered, “No, we’re not. But our friend Cas, Castiel, he’s an angel and he told us that she wasn’t anything to be feared.”

  
“You have an angel friend?” Mick asked. You nodded in response and he continued, “Wow. You two are just full of surprises. So, this Castiel knows that something is up with her.”

  
“Yeah. Yeah he does,” Sam relented. 

  
“And he won’t tell you?” Mick question. 

  
You shook your head in response, “No. And like (Y/N) said, keep it out of your reports. Mick, I swear on everything holy that if you mention it to anyone else, we’ll kill you.” Mick laughed, but you turned halfway around in your seat, “I’m serious. Not a damn word.” 

  
Mick’s smile dropped, “I already told her that I wouldn’t. If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I keep my word.”

  
You finally crawled into bed a little before 4:00am. She was resting soundly and readily curled up into you when you laid down beside her and pulled her into your arms. Exhaustion washed over you and just before sleep pulled you in, you thought, “_What in the hell are you, babe?_”

  
The next morning, you, Mick and Sam worked out a plan to take out the werewolf at the bar. Since Claire had already been there asking questions, you ordered her to stay back with your girl who was still recuperating. She wasn’t happy about it, but understood the rationale behind your decision. 

  
Sam snuck around to take his position in the alley by the back exit, where you and Mick would hopefully lead the bartender. Mick entered the establishment first and you two made a beeline for the counter. The young man fit the description of the werewolf that (Y/N) had given you. He was wearing a grey T-shirt with brown sleeves and was causally unloading a box of liquor bottles behind the counter. 

  
He looked up when you held out your FBI badge and introduced yourself, “Howdy. Agent Strummer. This is agent Vai.”

  
“Uh, hi,” he replied. 

  
Mick laid his phone on the counter, displaying a picture of Hayden, “Do you recognize this girl? She was here three nights ago.”

  
The boy shook his head, “Yeah. Not really.”

  
“Yeah, I’d lie if I served underage girls, too,” you countered, calling his bluff. 

  
He sighed heavily and looked at you for sympathy, “Look, man, I . . . I really need this job. She started coming in a few weeks ago after Connor got hired.”

  
“Connor?” Mick asked. 

  
“Yeah, the other bartender. They’re having a thing,” he answered. 

  
You pushed for more information, pretending to believe his story, “What kind of a thing?”

  
A door opened and closed nearby. The young man pointed his head in the direction of another man, with a neck tattoo, walking out into the main dining area, “Ask him.”

  
You eyed the other bartender for a brief moment before turning your attention back to the werewolf, “Well, we’re actually more interested in talking to you still.”

  
He was clearly getting frustrated, “Look man, I said I don’t know her.”

  
You stared at him sternly, “I’m not your man. So, we can either continue our little chat outside or me and my partner here can take you downtown, record it all on tape and make it nice and official. 

  
The boy huffed and realized he wasn’t going to shake you off of his trail that easily, “Fine.”

  
The bartender agreed to talk in private and introduced himself as Justin as the three of you strolled towards the back entrance where Sam was waiting to jump him. He was leading the way with you in the middle and Mick bringing up the rear. Justin went to grab the door to the alleyway, but out of the blue, he turned and sucker punched you in the jaw, knocking you back into Mick. 

  
“Son of a bitch,” you cried out. 

  
Justin flung open the door and grabbed Sam by his shirt, throwing him across the alley against the neighboring building. You shook your head several times and rushed to follow him outside. You pulled your gun out from it’s secured position in the back of your waistband and fired off a shot, but the silver bullet merely grazed Justin’s shoulder. You thought about chasing after him, but knew that you wouldn’t catch up to him on foot. Mick finally joined you just as Sam was getting up from being tossed around like a rag doll. 

  
“What the bloody hell was that?!” Mick yelled. 

  
“Shit!” you exclaimed, tucking your gun back into your pants, “I don’t know, but we gotta find him.”

  
You were able to easily manipulate Connor into telling you where Justin lived. You drove like a bat out of hell to his home, but were disappointed to find he was not there. Mick suggested you reconvene back at the hotel and form a new plan and you and Sam agreed with him. You tried to call your girl to give her an update, but had to leave a voicemail. Slightly worried, you called Claire next. 

  
“Dean,” She answered suspiciously quiet. 

  
“Hey Claire. Bad news. The guy got away. We’re headed back now to regroup. You guys doing okay? I couldn’t get ahold of (Y/N). She still with you?” you asked. 

  
Claire stammered, “Um, uh, yeah she’s . . . she’s here. But Dean . . .”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“You better hurry,” she said solemnly. 

  
That was enough for you to slam your foot down on the gas, sending you barreling down the highway back towards the hotel.

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
After the boys left, you joined Claire in her room, excited to get to know her a little bit better. You continued to rack up the Men of Letters’ hotel bill by ordering up more room service and a pay-per-view movie that neither of you really paid attention to. Claire told stories about some of her hunts and you did the same. 

  
Once the food had been eaten and the move ended, you decided to go for a walk to get some fresh air and work out some of your nerves that were bubbling just underneath the surface. Even though you were confident that the boys could take out the werewolf, I mean hell, it was three to one, you were still concerned for their safety and frustrated that you weren’t quite ready to fight. 

  
The two of you hiked down the road and began to walk along a little path in a nearby park. Just as you were circling back around to the beginning, you shivered as a cold chill blew across your face. Suddenly, there was an electric buzz in the air and you could tell that Claire felt it too. You stealthily bent down, pretending to tie your shoe so you could procure the silver knife out of your boot. You grabbed it swiftly and stood up to stand back to back with Claire. When you did, you saw that the werewolf had been following behind you. He was wearing a black, long sleeve jacket and that same, stupid face beanie with a skull on it, obviously trying to intimate his attackers. 

  
He growled and you lunged toward him with your knife, but he grabbed your arm and pushed you to the ground, your weapon scattering across the ground out of reach. You were momentarily knocked out of breath and could only watch as Claire tried to take him on next. Claire dodged his initial attack and attempted to stab him with her own knife, but only slashed through the empty air. He managed to grab her arm and push her down, pinning her to the ground. 

“_No, no, no, no, no, no!_” you screamed internally. 

  
You scampered to your feet and just as he was lifting his mask to bite her the same way you saw in the episode of this hunt, you pounced him. The two of you rolled around and around several times before he finally regained control of the situation and trapped you with your back to the ground. You delivered a right hook to his jaw, but he was unfazed. He grabbed both of your arms and pinned them above your head. Before you could react any further, he leaned down and bit you on your right shoulder, easily tearing through the fabric of Dean’s flannel and your thick jacket. 

  
A white hot, searing pain coursed through your veins, “Motherfucker! Get off of me!”

  
Claire’s boots scraped against the path, signaling that she had recovered and was coming to try and save you. The werwolf noticed and, satisfied that he was able to bite at least one of you, he fled from the area. Claire was quickly at your side and from the horror in her face, you knew that she saw you get bit. 

  
You looked down the blood stains on your clothing, tears welling up in your eyes, “No, no, no, no, no. Claire, what happened?! They were supposed to get him! How did he find us?”

  
Before Claire could reply, her phone rang, “Dean.”

  
You sat there quietly and listened to her briefly speak with the man of your dreams. “_Shit, he is going to be so pissed at me,_” you thought as tears began to fall down your face. 

  
Once she hung up the phone she returned her attention to you, “Maybe you can heal yourself?”

  
You shook your head in despair, “Claire, I don’t even know how I did it the first time. Fuck!”

  
“The boys are on their way back. Obviously the guy got away from them. Come on, let’s get back to the hotel.”

  
Somehow, with Claire’s support, you managed to walk back to the hotel, doing your best to act like you hadn’t just been bitten by a supernatural creature as you shuffled through the lobby towards the elevator. She guided you to your room and you went to the bathroom to clean and dress your wound. Your eyes were bloodshot and red from how hard you had been crying, but you could give a rat’s ass about that now. You were just finishing buttoning up a classic red and black checkered flannel of Dean’s when you heard the boys burst in. 

  
“Claire! What happened?” you heard Dean ask, his voice frazzled. 

  
“It just all happened so fast . . .” she replied. 

  
“What did?” you heard Sam query. 

  
“Where’s (Y/N)?” Dean wanted to know. 

  
You slowly marched out of the bathroom with your top pulled slightly off your shoulder so they could all see what Claire was talking about. 

  
“Guys,” you called out quietly, catching their attention. 

  
They all gasped when they saw you. Dean took three big strides across the room and grabbed you by the upper arms. He took in a deep breath, “Please, no. Don’t tell me . . .”

  
Your lip quivered and you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words aloud, so you just nodded in answer to his unasked question. He pulled you in tight and tried to console you, “Don’t worry. We’ll fix it. It’s gonna be ok. We’ll fix it,” he repeated over and over in hushed tones. 

  
Dean finally released you and led you over to sit on the edge of the bed so the two groups could fill each other in on what had happened. The boys were flabbergasted about how the werewolf, Justin, had gotten away. 

  
“It’s almost like he knew we were coming for him,” Sam commented. 

  
“How did he find her though?” Dean asked eerily quiet from his seat beside you, “I mean, he never even met her.”

  
“Scent, maybe? Maybe he tried to follow you back here to finish you off and found Claire and I instead,” you offered as an explanation. 

  
“How long does she have until . . .” Claire asked. 

  
“Sometimes it takes a full moon. Sometimes it just takes time,” Sam answered from his seated position at the nearby table. 

  
Dean grabbed your hand and you couldn’t help but to notice the torment and anguish clouding his beautiful green eyes. You just knew that he was beating himself up and blaming himself for what had happened. You were just about to open up your mouth and tell him to stop, when his soft, but firm lips met yours in a passionate kiss. 

  
He leaned his forehead against yours when he broke away, “Hey. Hey, listen to me. Look, nobody said this was gonna be easy, okay. But you _can_ live with this. I’ll help you.”

  
You inhaled shakily, “Dean . . .”

  
“Hey. Look so, so you have to stay locked up a few nights out of the month, okay? The rest of the time you’re you. Come on, we’ll hunt deer and shit and at least you won’t be subjected to any of Sam’s weird healthy cooking, right?” Dean said, trying to lighten the mood. 

  
You gave him a small smile but you couldn’t keep your voice from breaking, “But Dean. What if, what if I break out? I could hurt you. Or Sam. Or somebody else. I couldn’t live with myself.”

  
His eyes shifted nervously as he ran a hand down his face. He knew you were right. You inhaled deeply, “But, there may be another way.”

  
“Do you think you could heal yourself?” Mick asked. 

  
You shook your head, “I told Claire, I don’t even know how I did that in the first place. But remember the other morning, we were talking about the plasma therapy? Maybe we can try that?”

  
“I told you, it doesn’t work,” Mick replied. 

  
Sam was skimming through a book, “But look, it says right here, uh, one out of nine test subjects was cured.”

“That study was on mice,” Mick said. 

  
Dean looked up at the Brit, “What the hell are they talking about, exactly?”

  
Mick explained, “We experimented with the blood of sire werewolves. And we found it was possible to reverse the early stages of lycanthropy . . . in rodents.”

  
Sam leaned forward in his chair, “So you never tested on humans?”

  
“Once.”

  
“And?” Sam prodded. 

  
Mick inhaled deeply, “The subject died in agony. Sorry.”

“I think second time will be a charm,” you said with a glimmer of hope. 

  
Dean wagged a finger at you, “Hey, no, no. You don’t get a vote in this.”

  
You remembered Claire’s response and scoffed at Dean, “It’s my life Winchester. I get all the votes.”

  
Dean turned to his brother, “Sam, you wanna back me up here?”

  
Sam had his elbow propped up on the table, his head supported by his hand, “It’s her life.”

  
Dean turned and placed a hand around the back of your neck. He looked desperate, “It’s not just your life we’re talking about here.”

  
You patted his knee, “Dean, I didn’t want to mention this part, but in an alternate version of . . . what I saw, Claire was bit.”

  
“What?” Claire and Sam asked at the same time. 

  
“Yeah, I was hoping to prevent that. And I did, I guess. Yay, me!” you said sarcastically, “But, you all did the therapy on her and she survived. If Claire can do it, then maybe I can.” You raised your hand and cupped Dean’s cheek, “Please Dean. I don’t wanna live like this.”

  
He licked his lips and finally tore his eyes away from you, “All right. How do we get it done?”

  
Mick answered, “We need blood, live blood, from the werewolf that bit her.”

  
“How do we find the asshat?” Dean asked angrily. 

  
“Don’t worry. He’s going to come back here,” you answered. 

  
Mick furrowed his eyebrows, “How do you know that?”

  
“That’s what he did in my vision. He came back for Claire, so he’ll probably come back for me,” you replied. 

  
“Fine then, let’s set up a trap for the Lautner wannabe,” Dean ordered, standing up from the bed. 

  
“We better hurry. If she turns and feeds, our cheery success rate drops to zero,” Mick warned. 

  
You grabbed Dean’s hand, “Babe, there’s one more thing I need you to do.”

  
“What?”

  
“Got any handcuffs?”

  
Forty five minutes later, everyone was in their attack position and your arms were securely restrained to the bed’s headboard. The moonlight was pouring in through the sheer white curtains and you could feel your skin buzzing as the lycanthropy virus worked on changing your body at a cellular level. You were doing your best to try and hide your agonizing pain, but Dean could sense you were not as in control as you wanted to be. 

  
He came over and sat on the side of the bed and looked at you pitying, “(Y/N), I just want you to know . . .”

  
“Nu-uh, Winchester,” you said interrupting him, “You are not going to pul that “oh no, someone I care about might die so let me confess all my feelings” bullshit with me.”

  
Dean chuckled, “You really know me, huh?”

  
“You’re damn right, I do.”

  
“What if this doesn’t work?”

  
“Dean, it’s going to work. I just know it.”

  
“How? How can you be so sure?”

  
“Come here and I’ll tell you.”

  
Dean leaned in so you were cheek to cheek so you could whisper in his ear, “Because idjit, I’m not done bothering you yet,” you said before planting a kiss on his cheek. He turned his head and crashed his plump lips onto yours, his tongue easily sliding past your open mouth. 

  
Dean pulled back and looked up at the handcuffs, “This wasn’t the way I wanted to use these on you.”

  
You wiggled your eyebrows, “See, we still have so much more to do.”

  
He kissed your forehead and then left the bed to resume his position guarding the door. Mick was on the other side, syringe ready to secure the direly needed blood when Justin arrived. Sam was standing in front of the balcony directly across from the room’s entrance, hoping to distract Justin when he entered and Claire was hiding as backup in the bathroom. 

  
Another half hour went by and nothing. You were starting to hear the forceful pounding of the other hunters’ heartbeats, the sound of their blood rushing through their veins was almost deafening. You started to crave the metallic taste of a beating heart and knew you soon wouldn’t be human. 

  
“Mick, you got anything to sedate me? I don’t know how much longer I can hold out,” you asked. 

  
“Uh, yeah, just one second,” he said going for his bag. 

  
It was at that moment that the glass behind Sam shattered as Justin jumped through, attacking the younger Winchester. Sam was caught off guard, so the werewolf was easily able to toss him to the side. He then set his eyes on Dean. 

  
“Come and get it, Twilight!” Dean yelled. 

  
Justin ran and slammed him into the wall, but Dean was able to punch him, knocking him to the ground. Mick bent down and stabbed him with the syringe, gathering enough blood for the plasma therapy. Justin stood and leered at Mick, claws out and fangs exposed. However, before he could attack again, Sam shot him in the heart. Justin gasped, his knees buckling underneath him as he feel to the ground, dead. 

  
Dean whipped around his head towards you, “We got him . . . babe?”

  
But in all the commotion and noise, no one had noticed that you had ripped your handcuffs away from the headboard and were now standing between the bed and the wall. Your eyes were a sickening yellow green and you were now wielding your own set of fangs and claws. 

  
“(Y/N)?,” Dean said cautiously as Mick pulled the vial of blood out of Justin’s back to prepare the plasma therapy, “(Y/N)? Come on nerd, I know you’re in there.”

  
Claire came around to stand behind the boys who were all standing in front of you, united. Sam had grabbed a chair and was holding it out like he was going to try and tame you, as if you were as weak as a pathetic, little lion. Dean held up his hands out, palms out towards you, “Come on nerd, don’t do this. We’re this close.”

  
You growled primarily and thought, “_Yeah, close to dinner._” You relished in their terrified looks as you snarled and hissed warningly at them. 

  
“Come on (Y/N), you know us,” Sam pleased. 

  
Dean never took his eyes off of you, but he asked Mick, “That thing ready yet?”

  
Mick handed Dean the syringe, “It’s ready. It’s ready. Go, go, go.”

  
Dean exhaled sharply, “She wanted this, right?”

  
“Oh, yeah,” Sam replied. 

  


You growled again and pounced in Sam’s direction, hoping that if you took down the bigger threat, the other three would give up easier. You swiped the chair easily out of his hands, but a sharp sting in your back stopped you dead in your tracks. You were rendered helpless as tiny pinpricks radiated out from the injection, dropping you to your knees in excruciating agony. You closed your eyes, mind wracked with pain, leaving you unable to focus on anything else. Someone picked you up and quickly dropped you onto the bed where you spent God knows how long writhing around in pain. 

After the pinpricks subsided, hot flashes ebbed up and down your spine before ice cold chills seared through you veins. The temperature fluctuations repeated several times, sometimes accompanied by the sensation of every bone in your body snapping, one after the other. Your growls, whimpers and little moans of pain were the only sounds in the room. That is, until you heard someone say they needed some air. After the umpteenth wave of freezing, arctic chills abated, you felt nothing and your body went limp. 

  
You were too weak to move, but you could still hear everything going on in the room. Sam called out your name and when you didn’t respond, he hollered for his brother. 

  
“_So, that’s who went outside. I knew he wouldn’t be able to watch this part._”

  
You heard footsteps approach the bed and felt the mattress dip as Dean took a seat beside you. You felt the claws above your fingernails retract, your fangs disappear and suddenly, you were able to open your eyes. Relief washed over the faces of the other four hunters as they realized you were yourself again. 

  
You gave them a weak smile, “What? Like this is the first time you watched someone be cured from lycanthropy? No big deal, right?”

  
Dean leaned down and practically attacked you with a soul searing kiss. You ran your hands up along his arms and they tangled in his hair. He finished his kiss, but stayed nose to nose with you and you could see unwept tears welling up in his eyes, “Is that really you?”

  
You remember Claire’s little joke from the episode and replied, “I mean, I could go for a Milk-Bone right now, but I think I’ll be okay.”

  
Dean helped you to sit up on the bed and Sam came rushing over to give you a hug, “I’m glad you’re okay geek. Well, we better let you get some rest. Mick, can you help me get rid of the body here?” he asked, pointing to Justin. 

  
Mick patted you on the shoulder and gave you a little wink, “Sure thing,” he replied before surveying the damage to the room, “This is going to be interesting explaining to the staff.”

  
Finally, Claire made her way over and you were shocked when she hugged you too, “Thanks for saving me,” she whispered. 

  
“Anytime Claire. Anytime,” you replied, returning her sign of affection. 

  
Once everyone was gone, Dean couldn’t help put tug you up on your feet and pull you into a vice against his chest as he buried his face into your neck. You felt wetness as he started to cry softly and you patted his back, doing your best to comfort him. You didn’t dare move, even if you had to stand there all night, you were determined to let Dean hold you for as long as he needed to. 

  
Finally, he whispered, “I thought I lost you. I thought it happened again, that somebody I care about was gone, because of me.”

  
“See, aren’t I always right? I told you I’d be okay.”

  
He leaned back and your heart broke at his tear stained face and reddened eyes. You reached up and wiped away a few stray tears as he said, “(Y/N), you should just run why you still have the chance. I’m poison to anything good.”

  
You rolled your eyes and slugged him hard in the chest. He gasped in shock, “Ow, what the hell was that for!”

  
“That’s negative reinforcement jackass. Dean, bad things happen all the time and not to just people you know. The girl Hayden? She was bit and her brother was killed. Did you know her?”

  
“No . . .”

  
“Exactly! Bad things can happen anytime, anywhere, but luckily for me, I have you and Sam and some other friends willing to help when the shit hits the fan. So quit wallowing and kiss me.”

  
You wrapped your arms around his neck and he obliged your request, giving you several sweet pecks with his tasty lips. When he was done, you couldn’t help but to laugh. 

  
“What’s so funny?” he asked. 

  
“Well Dean, we’re practically soulmates now.”

  
“What?” he asked with a hint of panic in his voice. 

  
“I mean, come on. You were a vampire. I was a werewolf. Throw in some rainy Seattle weather and teenage angst and we’re practically a Stephenie Meyer novel.”

  
Dean tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “You are the best thing that has ever happened in my miserable little life.”

  
Your insides melted into a puddle but you tried your best to remain cool, calm and collected, “You must have low standards.”

  
He looked you dead in the eye, “No, I’m serious. You are, princess.”

  
With that, he pulled you over to the bed and cuddled up with you on top of the covers. The two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms, still fully dressed. You were right on the edge of sleep, so you couldn’t decipher if it was a dream or if Dean really speaking, but you were pretty sure you heard someone utter, “I love you.”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
After a shower and a light breakfast, you met up with everyone else outside to head back home. You handed the valet the ticket for Baby and looked over to the end of the hotel’s semi-circle driveway to see Claire loading up her duffel in her car. 

  
“I’m gonna go make sure she comes over and gives us a proper goodbye,” your girl announced before bouncing over cheerily towards the young hunter. 

  
Mick sighed, looking off in her direction, “That girl, wow. She is something else. She’s a walking miracle.”

  
“Yeah, she is,” you said, agreeing with Mick for the first time ever, “Listen, uh, thanks for your help back there and for keeping some of our secrets safe from the rest of the Men of Letters.”

  
Mick turned around, “So, we’re good?”

  
Sam gave him a tight smile, “Not quite, but, we’re willing to keep working with you.”

  
(Y/N) was practically pushing Claire over in your direction to bid you farewell. She looked to you and Sam, “I’m sure the boys will agree with me.”

  
“Agree with you about what?” Sam asked, giving your girl a confused look. 

  
“Claire here hasn’t really told Jody about her hunting. I told her she should really call her and let her know what’s going on, right?” (Y/N) replied. 

  
“Jody doesn’t know that you were on a hunt with us?” Sam said disappointingly. 

  
Claire looked down and shifted from one foot to the other, “No, I haven’t told her yet.”

  
“Well, whatever you decide to do, we got your back. But, Jody’s good people. You should tell her,” you replied. 

  
Claire smiled, “Thanks.”

  
You and Sam gave Claire a hug and parted ways. On the way back to the Men of Letters bunker, Mick begged your girl to tell him more about her, but she wouldn’t budge. However, she did promise that she would tell him everything in a few weeks and urged him to trust her. 

  
“I don’t know what it is about you, but I do. I’m giving you one month and then I want some answers,” Mick said, offering her a deal, to which she agreed. 

  
After you dropped off Mick at his headquarters, your girl slipped into the backseat, allowing Sam to sit up front. She stretched out in the back with her headphones, enjoying the peaceful ride back. That is, until the car sputtered to a halt and died. 

  
She sat up when she felt the car roll to a stop and whined, “Noooooooo! I just wanna get home.”

  
“Let me take a look and see what’s going on. Wanna join me (Y/N), might be a good time for another auto shop lesson?” you asked. 

  
“Might as well,” she replied, slipping off her headphones. 

  
Sam started to get out of the car too, “Well, I’m not staying in here alone.”

  
You popped open the hood and started to look for a reason why Baby would just suddenly die. Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from behind you, “Hello (Y/N).”

  
The three of you whipped around and you were stunned to see Billie standing in the middle of the road, arms crossed. 

  
“Billie,” Sam stated. 

  
You instinctively stepped forward, positioning your girl behind you, “Did you do this?”

  
“I sure did,” the reaper replied cooly, “I warned (Y/N) about how her actions would have consequences.”

  
You gazed back at your girl, “What is she talking about.”

  
She started to speak, but Billie beat her to the punch, “Oh, the little woman didn’t explain? I warned her weeks ago that if she continued to mess with fate, that I would have to step in. By my account, she has saved at least a dozen souls, not including “little almost teenage werewolf”. I have no idea how she pulled that one off, but nevertheless, she’s messing with things she has no busy interfering with.”

  
You scoffed, “You know what, I have been driving all day and I’m not in the mood to put up with this bullshit, so why don’t you back the hell off and let us go.”

  
An unseen force smacked you and Sam in the chest knocking you to the ground and trapping you there. Billie approached your girl, “No Dean, I don’t think I will.”

  
You saw your girl swallow hard, “You won’t do anything. You like to keep clean hands and all, remember?”

  
“But, there’s ways around that,” Billie retorted, “Didn’t you ever wonder how Jael’s sister tracked you down? Or how the werewolf managed to escape the Winchester’s first attack and then surprise you all by coming in through the balcony?”

  
“What the hell Billie!” you screamed, red hot anger boiling up inside of you.

  
“You tried to kill me!” your girl shrieked. 

  
The reaper cocked her head to the side, “Like I said, consequences. Now, I’m done playing games. I am going to be on you like white on rice and the moment your guard is down, I’m taking you out. And when you go, I’m throwing you out into the empty where you won’t be able to mess with fate again.”

  
“NO!” you and Sam both cried out as you continued to fight against the invisible force that was keeping you pinned to the ground. 

  
You heard your girl’s voice shakily reply, “You wouldn’t dare.”

  
Billie smirked, “Hey, like you told me when we first met, you aren’t even supposed to be here. So, what’s it matter, right?”

  
All of a sudden the tip of a shiny, metallic blade pierced through Billie’s chest and a blinding white light lit up the darkness. You had to cover your eyes momentarily, but were able to look back in time to see the reaper grunt in pain before falling to her knees and collapsing on the ground, dead. Behind her, Castiel stood wielding his angel blade. 

  
The pressure on your chest subsided, so you scurried to your feet and ran over to assess your girl for any injuries, “Are you okay?”

  
She nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. Cas, what are you doing here? How did you . . .”

  
“I heard you calling out for me. Dean and Sam were too. I couldn’t let her hurt you,” he replied. 

  
She pulled away from you and ran over to give him a hug, “Thank you Cas. Thank you so much, you saved my life.”

  
“Can we not just have a peaceful ride home?” Sam asked to no one in particular. 

  
(Y/N) sauntered back over towards you, “Well, maybe Billie will be more understanding now.”

  
“Uh yeah, she’s dead. Pretty sure there’s nothing left for her to understand,” you replied sarcastically. 

  
“Not exactly,” she countered, biting her lip. 

  
“What do you mean?” Cas asked. 

  
She hesitated, “Well, I know I’ve changed a few things, but, originally, Billie did die. And Dean, because you killed Death, that left a job opening. Apparently, the next reaper to bite the dust after that becomes the new Death. So, if no other reaper has died yet . . .”

  
“Son of a bitch,” you muttered, “That means Death has a hard on to kill you.”

  
“Maybe, maybe not,” she replied, “Billie was actually more chilled out when she became Death. She saw the bigger picture of everything, so this might be a good thing.”

  
“Well, whatever happens, we got your back,” Sam said. 

  
“Cas, where the hell have you been? Any signs on Kelly?” you questioned, turning the focus to Castiel. 

  
“Not yet, but I am working on it. I’ll be in touch soon. Try to keep her out of trouble,” Cas answered before disappearing into the night. 

  
You reached out for your girl’s hand and gave her a stern look, “So, sweetheart, anyone else threaten you that you forget to tell us about?”

  
“No. She came to me when you all were in L.A. and I didn’t want to let her intimidate me and I didn’t want you all to worry.”

  
“I don’t know whether you’re brave or stupid, but it’s a nice thing you did, standing up to Billie and putting yourself in harm’s way to save those people,” Sam said, praising her. 

  
“I’m gonna go with stupid. Monumentally idiotic,” you stated. 

  
She shrugged her shoulders and grinned, “Hey, that’s the family business right? Saving people, hunting things?”

  
Sam pulled her into a big, brotherly hug, “Yeah kid, it is.”

  
You smiled at the sight of the two of them bonding, “All right, all right, enough of the sap. We still got a few hours drive until we got back to Kansas. Come on, let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know that’s a LOT to process, but hopefully it was entertaining. The next chapter is one I’ve been thinking about for a very, very long time, so bear with me because it will be a little bit before the next update. I can promise though, it’ll be just as good as this one.  
Comments make me smile and let me know that others are enjoying the story, so please drop a note below and tell me your thoughts and feelings about what’s happened so far! 😘 🤗 😊


	36. The Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean decides to take you out for date night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you want to get the full effect of this chapter, I encourage you to at least listen to the first song, if you don’t know it. The second song is not specifically mentioned, but in my version of the story, I imagine it as background music. So, the first song that is explicitly mentioned is “Two is Better Than One” by Boys Like Girls featuring Taylor Swift. Here is a link to the YouTube music video if you want to listen to it. 
> 
> https://youtu.be/AW3RspM7v9M
> 
> The second song inspired the title of this chapter. It’s called “The Words” by Christina Perri. Below you will find the YouTube link to the music video as well.
> 
> https://youtu.be/B9tc9R_Y3FY
> 
> Okay, now on with the chapter!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
The next few weeks passed uneventfully, well as uneventful as a hunter’s life could be. Sam and Dean went off on their own to clear out an elderly home of demon possessions while you gathered your strength back from whatever the hell you had done to cure Hayden. Honestly, you were happy to let them go so they could get some brotherly time in. Once they returned, you joined them on a hunt to take down a djinn that was masquerading as a magician in Atlantic City and to save an English department from a local university from being wiped out by a cursed typewriter. You were sitting at the war room table, poring over books about anything that might help you figure out what you were, when Dean came lazily strolling in, wearing a bathrobe over his black sweatpants and matching t-shirt.

  
He greeted you with a soft kiss, “Morning, sweetheart,” before heading over to the antique coffeepot and pouring him a cup of his hot, bean water. 

  
“Hey,” you replied curtly, focused on the task at hand. 

  
He took a sip from his cup, “So, what you got going on here “_Beautiful Mind_”?”

  
You slammed the book shut and pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration, “I’m pretty sure I’ve scoured every book in this bunker and I can’t find a damn thing.”

  
Dean took a seat in the chair beside you, “What ya lookin’ for?”

  
“An answer, Dean! I’ve been trying to find what kind of creature can heal werewolves and kill demons without any weapons and I’ve found bupkis. I, I, I just . . .” your voice started to break, “I just want to know what I am.”

  
He sat his cup down on the table and turned your chair so you were facing him, but you just stared at the ground, not having the will to look at him. He reached out a hand and gently grabbed your chin, urging you to make eye contact. You lifted your head, but kept your eyes closed. He tapped your cheek with his index finger, “Hey, open up them pretty eyes and look at me.”

  
You did as you were told and stared into his hypnotic green eyes, “What?”

  
“You’re my girl, that’s what you are. Whatever happens, whatever strange things you have bubbling under the surface, you, me and Sam, we’ll face it together.”

  
You shook your head, “You guys barely know me. I can’t ask you to do that.”

  
“You’re not asking, we’re volunteering.”

  
You gave him a tight smile, “Thanks, Dean, that means a lot to me. I’m just scared. I know I don’t really show it, but it’s been almost four months and I need answers.” 

  
“Hey, I’m telling you, suppression is a hunter’s best friend,” Dean said with a wink. 

  
You playfully smacked his knee, “Shut, up.”

  
“No, it’s true. Been doing it for years.”

  
“And how has that worked out for you?”

  
“Great!”

  
You shook your head, “Liar. But I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.”

  
He gave you a loving kiss and held your face close to his, “Hey, you trust Cas don’t you?”

  
“He killed a reaper for me, of course I trust him.”

  
“Well then, hold onto that.”

  
You nodded your head and gave him another kiss before leaning back in your chair with a heavy sigh, “All right, now that I’ve had that little freak out, why don’t you tell me about last night? What time did you and Sam get in?”

  
Dean chuckled, “Just a few hours ago. I did my best not to wake you when I stumbled in.”

  
“It’d have been fine if you did. What’d y’all get into?”

  
“We had some beers, shot some pool and darts and then went out to the field to just hang out. It was like old times.”

  
“Good, I’m glad you got some brotherly time in. You know, when we first started . . . getting close, I told Sam that he could tell me to back off or let you two go on a hunt alone if he was tired of my being the third wheel.”

  
“Really?” Dean asked over dramatically. 

You rolled your eyes, “He told you, didn’t he?”

  
“Of course he did. Just gave me another reason to like you.”

  
“Well, you can feel free to tell me too, ya know? I never want to be a wedge between you and your brother or that special bond that you have,” you confessed sincerely. 

  
“I think we’ve struck a good balance here, doll. Speaking of which, what do you have on your schedule today?”

  
You pretend to pull a mini notebook out of your pocket and flip it open. You tried to be as sarcastic as possible, “Well, research. Then lunch. More research. Probably freak out again. Oh, I have a pedicure scheduled at five and I can’t cancel that again. Maybe make a supply run. Dinner and then stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness. I’m booked!”

  
He grabbed the imaginary notebook out of your hand and tossed it behind him into the library, “Well tough, I have other plans.”

  
You were intrigued, “Oh yeah? Such as?”

  
“Remember a few months back when you pretended to be a rock God and won that gift certificate for a steak dinner?”

  
You buried your face in your hands, “Oh geez, don’t remind me.”

  
“Hey, that was hot,” he said, looking off into the distance and reminiscing, “You looked carefree, jumping around on the stage, rolling around, hair tousled . . .” He trailed off, with a wistful smile. 

You snapped your fingers, “Okay, okay I get it. So, what about it?”

  
“I thought I could take my girl out on a proper date.”

  
You couldn’t contain your smile, “Really?”

  
“Mm-hmm.”

  
“You wanna take me out tonight?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Not tomorrow?”

  
He looked around, confused, “Am I speaking English here? Yes, tonight. Why is that so hard to believe?”

  
“Because, you’re “Mr. Single Forever Winchester” and it’s “unattached drifter Christmas”. You really want to take me out on Valentine’s day?”

  
He pretended not to know today’s date, “Oh, is that today?” You nodded your head and he reached out to hold one of your hands, “Well then, happy coincidence.”

  
You teased, “I thought you liked being “Mr. Right Now” and not “Mr. Right”?”

  
“Well, I figure I could pass on being with a random skank tonight and keep the current skank I’m with happy.”

  
You punched him in the shoulder, “Asshole!”

  
He grabbed your hand and reached his other around to grab your neck before pulling you into a long kiss, nipping at your lips and letting his soft, thick tongue invade your mouth for several long, delicious minutes. 

  
You gave him one final kiss and then had a thought, “So, wait a minute. If I’m technically paying for dinner, doesn’t that mean you’re my date?”

  
“No,” he replied, looking insulted. 

  
“No?”

  
“No, because I’m driving.”

  
Sam must’ve finally stirred and came walking into the room just as you replied, “Dean, that’s now how that works.”

  
“Sure it is, ain’t it Sammy?” Dean asked his brother, looking for support. 

  
Sam looked back and forth between the two of you, “Uh . . . I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m pretty sure (Y/N) is right.”

  
You stuck your tongue out and laughed at Dean as he yelped, “What the hell man, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

  
Sam just laughed and continued past you two into the kitchen. 

  
“So, Romeo, when should I be ready?”

  
He stood and started to head after his brother, no doubt to give him a piece of his mind, “We leave at six thirty. Reservations at seven.”

  
“Reservation?”

  
He turned around and gave you a wink before disappearing out of view, “Yeah, I made this reservation the day we got back from the werewolf thing.”

  
He turned the corner and was gone. Your mouth practically hit the floor in surprise and your inner self was fanning herself. You thought, “_No friggin’ way. Did he really just say that? Wow, okay I must seriously be dreaming.. . . Oh shit, what am I going to wear?!_”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
At a quarter after six, you were standing outside of her old bedroom door. She had insisted the two of you get ready separately and the anticipation of seeing her was killing you. You had actually put a lot of thought into tonight and were excited to repay her for Christmas and your birthday. You didn’t even mind getting dressed up in black slacks, dress shoes and a long sleeved, red button up shirt. You had purposefully picked the red top because you remembered just how much she loved you in that color. 

  
You rapped your knuckles on the door and waited for her to answer. You heard the *_clicking_* of heels across the floor on the other side of the door and held your breath in suspense. 

  
“Who is it?” she called out coyly. 

  
“It’s the pizza man,” you replied sarcastically, “Who do you think it is? It’s me.”

  
“Me? I don’t know any “me”?”

  
You went to reach for the doorknob, “Guess I’ll have to show you then,” you said before flinging the door open. 

  
She stood back just in time to avoid being hit by the door and your mouth went dry when you saw her standing there. Ironically, she had chosen a red dress that stopped just above her knees. It was held up by two thin straps and the neckline dipped dangerously low, giving you a peek of her cleavage. Her hair fell in loose curls, framing her face perfectly. She had put on a little bit of makeup, enhancing rather than taking away from her beauty. She wore a pair of basic, black heels and the bullet necklace that she refused to ever take off gave off a hint of danger and reminded you just how much of a badass she could be. 

  
“Wow,” you said before crossing the room and wrapping one hand around her waist. 

  
She smiled seductively, “I take it, you’re pleased?”

  
“Hell yeah,” you replied licking your lips as images of you taking off her dress and running your hands up and down her naked body danced in your mind’s eye. 

  
She wrapped her arms around your neck and pushed her breasts into your chest, forcing you back against her open door, “Mmmm, me too. You look delicious enough to eat.”

  
Before you could reply, she tangled her hands in your hair, her nails gently scratching your scalp, and pulled your lips down onto hers. Your skin started to buzz at the contact, like it always did when you were connected physically with her. She licked your bottom lip and you opened up, letting her tongue skim across your teeth before it slid skillfully against yours. You reached down and grabbed two handfuls of her ass, pulling her body flushed against yours. 

  
She broke contact and pulled at your hair, forcing you to expose your neck to her. She kissed and sucked up your left jawline until she made her way up to your neck. She continued to move her lips against your flesh, working her way back down until she was nipping at your Adam’s apple. You ran your palms up and down her back, “I’m having second thoughts about dinner. Maybe we should just stay here.”

  
She chuckled and released your hair, moving her hands to grip your upper forearms, eyes scanning back and forth across your face, “Sorry. It’s just, you look really good. I couldn’t help myself.”

  
“That’s fine with me, sweetheart,” you replied before slightly grinding your half erect cock against her abdomen. 

  
“Apparently,” she said with a wink. 

  
“Seriously, maybe we should just skip dinner.”

  
She playfully shook you, “No, you planned this and I spent like two hours shaving, plucking and painting my face. We are going out.”

  
You rolled your eyes, “Fine, fine, fine. But, I want to continue this later.”

  
“Don’t worry, me too,” she replied leaning in for one more kiss. 

  
Luckily, your table was ready and waiting when you arrived at the “715 Restaurant”. You held out her seat for her and enjoyed the little blush that danced across the apple of her cheeks. The restaurant was booked up with other couples celebrating the holiday as well. You each ordered the ribeye steak and were surprised when she asked to also have the least ordered item on the menu. 

  
The waitress was momentarily speechless, “Um, not many people try the escargot?”

  
“Sounds perfect. Yes, we’ll have an order of that as well,” she replied confidently. 

  
Once the waitress was out of earshot, you asked, “Snails? Really?”

  
She shrugged her shoulders, “When are we ever gonna have the chance to do it again? Come on, it’ll be an adventure.”

  
The waitress returned with her Long Island iced tea and your glass of whiskey. The two of you sipped on your drinks, chat chatting about things that would be insignificant to anyone but each other. She got on the topic of telling you stories about her time at a summer camp she went to during her last year of elementary school, which reminded you of the few months you spent at “Sonny’s Home for Boys”. You continued on like this until the waitress brought out your orders.

  
You started to dig into your steak and, after much convincing, you tried a teeny tiny bite of the escargot. You chewed once, twice, three times and finally had to spit it out in your napkin. She covered her mouth, doing her best not to laugh too loudly. You passed the plate to her, “All right, princess, your turn.”

  
She took the plate and sat it aside, “Actually, I’ve had it before and they’re disgusting. I just wanted to see if I could get you to try it.”

  
“What the hell?!” 

This set her off again, stomach shaking, head thrown back against her chair as she roared with laughter. You clicked your tongue several times, “You are so gonna regret that.”

  
She choked out between her guffawing, “Whatever your payback is, will totally be worth it.”

  
The two of you shared a slice of apple butter cheesecake, because this “fine dining” restaurant had the audacity not to have any pie on their dessert menu. However, you had to admit, it wasn’t that bad. You took turns feeding each other off one another’s spoon and licking them suggestively. At the end of the meal, she gave them her gift certificate and you placed your hand on the small of the back as you shuffled out of the restaurant towards the valet to retrieve Baby. 

  
She sighed in contentment, “Okay, that was totally worth making a fool out of myself for ten minutes in front of a crowd of strangers.”

  
“I agree. You should do that more often.”

  
“So, we heading back?”

  
“Actually, gotta make a little pit stop,” you said given her a side glance as you pulled out into traffic. 

  
“Where?”

  
“Oh, you’ll see,” you replied before reaching over and patting her exposed knee. 

  
Twenty minutes later you were pulling Baby into the open clearing of the field where you had spent countless hours in peaceful solitude. You put Baby in park and stretched your arm out along the black, leather bench seat, “Come here, nerd.”

  
She scooted over and melded into you, leaning her head on your shoulder. She had a hint of suspicion in her tone when she asked, “What exactly are we doing here?”

  
“Just thought I’d spend some time with one of my favorite people in one of my favorite places.”

  
“Mm-hmm,” she replied, not believing your explanation. 

  
You rubbed your hand up and down her arm, “Seriously. I just thought we could spend some alone time out here. Look at the stars and all that gooey romantic crap.”

  
“All right, well you’re driving this show,” she said. 

  
And that’s exactly what you all did for the next half hour. The night sky was speckled with a few stray storm clouds, but the stars were still visible. The air was still and you couldn’t help but to feel absolutely at peace in this moment. You nudged her with your shoulder, silently asking her to sit up, “So, I may have gotten you a little something.”

  
“Dean, you’re gonna spoil me,” she teased as you reached up underneath the front seat and pulled out two rectangular shaped gifts wrapped in newspaper. 

  
You nervously handed them over to her, “It’s not much, but still I wanted to get you something.”

  
“Well you did better than me. I didn’t know if you wanted to celebrate this holiday, so I am actually presentless for once.”

  
She peeled back the wrapping on the first gift and laughed as she held up the book you had given her, “Oh my gosh, this is hilarious. “_Auto Repair for Dummies_”? Very romantic Dean.”

  
You cocked your head nervously back and forth, suddenly embarrassed that you would pick this out as a Valentine’s day gift. However, she leaned forward and kissed you, “I love it. Really. It’s thoughtful and something that I’ll use. Thank you.”

  
You waved a hand at her, “Nah, you don’t have to lie, it’s all right. It was dumb.”

  
“No, no it’s not. I really, truly love it.”

  
You bit your lip in excitement, “Okay open the next one.”

  
She sat the book up on the dashboard and ripped into her second gift, “Dean . . . Is this what I think it is?” she asked, running her fingers along the leather bound notebook. 

  
“Well, if you think it’s a hunter’s journal, then yeah. I figured you might want to start writing down your own stories and little tips and tricks of the trade. Might help you find a pattern in your abilities and put you one step closer to figuring out what you are, exactly.”

  
Her small hands continued to dance back and forth across the cover of your gift to her. She closed her eyes and held it tightly against her chest for several seconds before whispering, “Thank you Dean. I, just, wow. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

  
You tucked her hair behind her ear, “I’m just glad you like them.”

  
She opened her eyes and put the journal on top of her other book, “Okay, out of the car.”

  
“Uh, excuse me?”

  
She slid off her high heels and exited the car, “Come on, out of the car. You’re gonna do one more thing for me tonight.”

  
“Is it going to be like a “_The Notebook_” thing or more “_Casa Erotica_”?” you asked with a wag of your eyebrows. 

  
“Dean Winchester, you have a dirty mind.”

  
“Yeah, but a pure heart.”

“Just get out of the damn car,” she ordered with a roll of her eyes. 

  
You did so and met her at the front of the Impala. She was messing around on her phone and finally placed it on the hood of Baby. She turned around and placed your arms around her middle before circling hers around your neck. From her phone, the sounds of a guitar started strumming and she smiled, “Dance with me.”

  
You smirked, “Sweetheart, I may do a lot of things, but dancing isn’t one of them.”

  
“And you also said you’d never wear shorts, but that turned out to be a lie now too, didn’t it? Come on, just sway with me like you’re at a middle school dance.”

  
You shook your head and she pouted her lips, “Please? Just one little dance? Promise I won’t tell anyone and ruin your macho façade.”

  
“All right, but only because it’s Valentine’s Day.”

  
She leaned her head on your chest as a male’s voice sang:

  
_I remember what you wore on the first day_   
_You came into my life and I thought, hey_   
_You know this could be something_

_‘Cause everything you do and words you say_   
_You know that it all takes my breath away_   
_And now I’m left with nothing_

  
“_Okay, this isn’t too bad,_” you thought as you rocked back and forth with your girl in your arms. She looked up at you and a pleasurable shiver ran down your spine as she played with the hair on the back of your neck. 

  
_So maybe it’s true_   
_That I can’t live without you_   
_And maybe two is better than one_   
_But there’s so much time_   
_To figure out the rest of my life_   
_And you’ve already got me coming undone_   
_And I’m thinking two is better than one_

  
You surprised her and grabbed her hands from around your neck before twirling her around in several circles. She giggled and when you pulled her back into you, you made sure her back was to your chest. You held her close and swayed under the Kansas moonlight.

  
_I remember every look upon your face_   
_The way you roll your eyes, the way you taste_   
_You make it hard for breathing_

  
When you heard this lyric, you couldn’t help but to give her several big, open mouthed kisses on her right shoulder, just above her anti possession tattoo. You heard her moan in appreciation and you nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent. Tonight, she had on some sort of perfume that was sweet, light and reminded you of an apple pie. She felt soft and delicate under your embrace and hummed along to the song as you continued to dance. 

  
_‘Cause when I close my eyes and drift away_   
_I think of you and everything’s okay_   
_I’m finally now believing_

  
As the chorus circled back around, you spun her around again and assumed your original dancing stance, but this time you took her left hand in your right one and put a little more effort into your movements. 

  
She grinned, letting you take the lead, “See, I knew there was a Swayze hiding in you all along.”

  
“Hell of a compliment, sweetheart.”

  
“Well if the tap shoes fit. After all, Swayze could kick some major ass, but he was also an incredible dancer and a singer.”

  
“Singer? Swayze didn’t sing.”

  
“Uh, yeah he did. Do you remember the scene in “_Dirty Dancing_” when Johnny leaves and there’s this song that plays, “_She’s Like the Wind_”? And don’t say you haven’t seen it, because I know you have.”

  
You answered sheepishly, “Okay yeah, I’ve seen it. But Swayze . . .”

  
She held up a hand, “I know, I know. Swayze gets a pass. Anyway, that song? That’s good ol’ Patrick singing.”

  
“You’re lying!”

  
“I swear on my life, it’s him. I’ll have to prove it to you later. Maybe if I do, you’ll sing for me one day. You have a very sexy crooner hiding inside of you, Mr. Winchester.”

  
You bent down and she titled her face up to meet your lips for another series of slow, deep kisses. Your noses brushed against one another and you felt a tickle as her eyelashes fanned across your cheek. 

  
_And I’m thinking, ooh_   
_I can’t live without you_   
_‘Cause baby, two_   
_Is better than one_   
_There’s so much time_   
_To figure out the rest of my life_   
_But I figured out with all that’s said and done_   
_Two is better than one_   
_Two is better than one_

  
The song ended and you leaned her forehead on hers, “Well, that wasn’t too bad.”

  
“See, come on tell me those three little words I wanna hear. I was right. Go ahead and tell me,” she teased. 

  
“_Come on dude, this is the perfect moment. Tell her. Tell her!_”

  
“I . . .” 

  
But a loud and powerful *_BOOM_* interrupted you. You snapped your head around and saw a flash of lighting dart across the sky. Without warning, rain began to pour from the sky. She ran towards Baby and you grabbed her phone off the hood. 

  
You hopped in the front seat, shaking the excess rain out of your hair and turned in her direction, “That came out of no . . . where.”

  
But, she wasn’t there in the seat next to you. Instead, she had gotten in the back passenger seat and was smiling shyly, “Hi.”

  
“Uh, hi? What you doing back there?”

  
She glanced down at the floor, biting her lip nervously, “I want you Dean.”

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“I want you Dean,” you said, barely above a whisper. You lifted your eyes slowly and looked to Dean to gauge his reaction. 

  
He licked his lips and asked huskily, “And when you say that, what exactly do you mean?”

  
“I mean, I think we’ve waited long enough. I want you,” you replied patting the empty seat next to you. 

  
His green eyes roamed your body and his expression was completely serious, “Are you sure? Here? Now?”

You smirked, “I mean, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to. I can just get back in the front seat . . .”

  
He started scuffling around in the front seat, taking off his shoes and making his way to climb over the bench into the back with you, “Nope, nope, nope. I’m coming back there.”

  
He clumsily threw his body towards you and landed with his face on your chest, “Yep, this is a good position,” he said shaking his head back and forth in between your breasts. 

  
You swatted him on the back of the head and he sat back, but pulled you up onto his lap so you were straddling him. He placed his strong hands on your shoulders and ran them down your arms as if he was memorizing every inch of your skin. 

  
“Dean?”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“I wanna tell you something and I don’t expect you to say anything back, but I just want you to know something before this happens.”

  
“You’re not gonna tell me you’re really a dude are you? Because that would be a deal breaker.”

  
“No, you dork,” you giggled before taking his face in your hands, “I just want you to know that not only do I love you, but I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for some time now.” His expression was unchanged, “I know that today has been uncharacteristically “chick flicky” for you and I appreciate all the effort you put into making it special. But, yeah, Dean Winchester, I’m in love with you.”

  
He took your face in his hands, mirroring your movements, “I, I . . .”

  
“Dean, really, it’s okay. I don’t expect to hear it back because I know how hard it is for you to say something like that.”

  
He swallowed hard, “I care a lot about you, (Y/N). I care about you so goddamn much.”

  
You nodded your head, inching closer to his face, “I understand. I get what you’re saying, Dean.”

  
With that, he leaned forward and met you in a white, hot kiss. It started out innocent enough as slow little pecks, but the intensity quickly grew as he slid his tongue past your lips and into your mouth. You reached down and started unbuttoning his red top. You felt his hands slide leisurely down your body until he cupped two handfuls of your ass, pulling you closer and causing your dress to ride up to around the top of your thighs. 

  
“That freckle in the middle of your chest, mmmm” he said as he moved his mouth down to your chest, “It’s like a blazing neon sign that says “kiss me here”.” He ran his teeth along the area before sucking on your flesh. 

  
You couldn’t help but to giggle and after a few seconds, you lifted his head up, “I love these two little gaps in your beard,” you said placing a finger on the areas of bare skin on either side of his cheeks.”

  
“What?” he asked in a voice higher pitched than normal.

  
You rubbed the smooth skin with the tips of your fingers, “Yeah, these gaps in your stubble make you look like an animal or something. It’s really hot.”

  
“Sammy always gives me shit about it, saying, ‘Haha, you can’t even grow a full beard, jerk’.”

  
You kissed each area, “Don’t listen to that fool, they are very, very sexy.”

  
You had finally finished unbuttoning his shirt and started to push the fabric down his shoulders, reveling in his masculine musk. He always smelled of gunpowder and whiskey, but tonight there was also a hint of something else that you couldn’t quite place, but it drew you in like a moth to the flame and lit a fire in your core. 

  
He slipped his arms out of his top and threw it in the front seat, leaving his torso only covered by a black T-shirt. You could feel his fingers at your zipper and before he moved, he asked, “Are you sure?” 

  
Your dress had ridden up far enough that you were able to rub your panties directly against Dean’s crotch. You could feel the length of him straining against his zipper and the contact sent zings of electricity up through your pussy, radiating out to your limbs. You smirked, “I don’t wanna stop.”

  
He started to pull down the zipper of your dress and you leaned forward to kiss and nip at his exposed collarbone. Your teeth grazed back and forth several times and when your zipper had been undone, Dean called out, “Son of a bitch!”

  
You snapped up, and a sharp sting invaded your senses as you hit the back of your head on the roof of the Impala, “Fuck!”

  
He chuckled a little, “Are you okay?”

  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied rubbing the back of your head, “Why did you yell? Did I hurt you?”

  
His palms rubbed up and down your bare back, “No, definitely not. It’s just . . . I don’t have a condom with me.”

  
You dropped your hands to your side, pretending to be disappointed, “What? How do you not have any condoms with you?”

  
He stuttered, “I, I don’t know, I, it’s just ever since we’ve been together, I didn’t feel the need to keep any with me in the car.” He threw his head back against the seat, “Fuck! I have some back at the bunker though.”

  
“Well, I mean, I know I’m clean, how about you solider?”

  
He scoffed, “I’m not stupid, princess. I get checked up regularly and ever since you’ve been in my life, I haven’t slept with anyone else. But still, I’m not ready to have any ankle biters running around.”

  
You gave him a seductive smile and traced your hands up and down his torso, “Well, then we don’t have a problem.”

  
“What do you mean?” he asked, eyeing you suspiciously. 

  
You let the straps of your dress fall down your shoulders, “When you went out to L.A., I may or may not have gone to the doctor for a check up, to make sure whatever mumbo jumbo brought me here didn’t mess with my health, and I may or may not have asked him to give me birth control.”

  
“So, wait a minute. Are you saying that you’ve been on birth control this whole time?”

  
You gave him a small nod. 

  
“So, we don’t need a condom?”

  
You shook your head back and forth. 

  
“Well, hot damn, we can go bareback riding then,” he said with a playful wink. 

  
“Dean . . .” you started to say, but your words were cut off as he pulled you in for a needy kiss. 

  
You shimmied off his lap and placed your feet on the floor the Impala, trying your best not to break physical contact. You let your dress slide to the floor, leaving you in just your matching white bra and panties. Dean broke away and his eyes roamed up and down your body, letting out several appreciative sighs. His gaze when from one of admiration to predatory in the blink of an eye. His look fanned the fire burning hot in your core and before you could react, he wrapped a hand around your middle and turned to pin you to the backseat. 

  


He attacked your neck, sucking hard at that sweet spot along your collarbone. You arched your back, pressing your breasts up and into his chest. You hooked your feet instinctively around the back of his legs and skimmed your hands just underneath the back of his T-shirt. He trailed burning kisses down your chest until he reached your breasts. He yanked the fabric down covering your right breast and caressed you softly, running his thumb gently back and forth across your nipple to bring the sensitive bud to a peak before leaning down and taking it in his mouth. 

  
You reached up to card your fingers through his hair and mewed in his ear, “Dean, mmmm, yes.”

  
You felt him smile against your skin before he pulled down the other cup of your bra and repeated the process with your other breast. You started to tug at his shirt, doing your best to focus on the sweet, sinfully delicious sparks of pleasure his touch was sending to your pussy while trying to get closer to him. 

  
He leaned back on his knees and gave you one of his panty dropping smiles before reaching behind his head and slowly pulling his shirt off. You took the opportunity to reach behind you and unhook your bra. He reached down and snatched it in between the two cups before forcefully throwing it down onto the floorboard of the Impala, grateful to have your upper body exposed to him. 

You licked yours lips and ran your hands down his chest, starting at his shoulders and tracing every muscle, moving tantalizingly slow. You were no stranger to this view, but tonight was different. You felt his muscles flex and relax as he silently let your palms dance across his torso. 

  
“Damn,” you breathed unconsciously. 

  
He smirked and gave you a playful wink, “You think I’m a snack, huh?”

  
You let your hands trail back up and wrap around the back of his neck to pull him down to you, “Dean, you’re a whole damn meal.”

  
You kissed him and slid your tongue into his mouth, the aftertaste of the apple butter cheesecake and his whiskey from dinner mixed together, forming an intoxicating taste. Your hands roamed up and down his back while his warm chest was pressed firmly onto yours, pleasantly crushing your breasts against him. 

He lifted his body off of yours and skimmed his hand down along your curves until he reached your hips. You nipped at his lips, leading him to growl and squeeze your hip tightly. He broke away from the kiss to return his attention to your breasts once more, alternating his gorgeously plump lips from sucking to licking and nipping. Meanwhile, you realized his hand had found its destination as it dipped under your panties and his skillful fingers started to spread your folds. 

  
“Damn, babe,” he whispered in awe, “Already so wet and ready for me, huh?”

  
You rocked your hips, urging for more of his decadent touch, “Fuck, yes Dean. I want you.”

  
He easily slid two fingers past your entrance and you bucked up and into his hand. He scissored his fingers inside of you, stretching you out. His gravelly voice whispered in your ear, “I’ve wanted this ever since the first day I saw you, (Y/N). You made me feel like a damn teenager, sneaking off to beat one out every time you turned me on. You’re so fucking sexy like this,” he finished as he crooked his fingers inside of you. 

  
You threw your head back, pressing hard into the leather seat of the Impala, “Oh, shit! Dean, I’m ready, please. I want you.”

  
He pulled his fingers out and you whimpered at the loss of contact, but knew that something better was about the fill the void. He brought his hand up to his mouth, licking your arousal off of his long digits, “Mmmm, tasty as always.”

  
You reached down and started to unbuckle his belt with fevered passion. He allowed you to undo it and pull it out of his pants, tossing it to the floorboard with the other discard clothing. He leaned back once more and grasped either side of your white panties. His expression was calm and calculated as he leisurely pulled your underwear down your hips, legs and then your feet. He held them out and dropped them on top of the ever growing pile in the floorboard before unbuttoning his pants and sliding down his zipper. 

He laid his back down across yours, the weight of him a welcome pressure. You used your feet and legs to help shed him of his pants and boxers, leaving him gloriously naked. He had started to kiss you once again wrapping one hand around your back to pull you up and closer to him. You stretched your arm down between the two of you and wrapped your hand around his stiff cock. He was hot and heavy in your hand, the soft skin contradicting the hard muscle underneath.

  
In this position, you were only able to move your hand a few inches, up and down, squeezing him. But whatever you were doing, he must’ve loved it. He let out a feral growl, “Fuck, babe.” He reached down and grabbed your wrist, “You, you’re gonna have to stop.” He closed his eyes, swallowing hard, “You’re gonna have to stop if you want me to last.”

  
He opened his eyes back up and gazed into yours. You batted through your eyelashes, “My bad.”

  
“Oh no, it’s good, just too good for me right now,” he replied taking a couple of deep breaths. 

  
You released him from your grip, his hand replacing yours. You took a deep breath and watched as he lined himself up at your entrance. You noticed that his tip was already red and leaking precome. He teased the head of his dick against your folds, rubbing it up and down the length of your slit. 

  
“Fuck, Dean, don’t be such a tease,” you moaned.

  
He smirked, “Just giving a little payback.”

  
You tried to buck your hips up, but he splayed his other hand across the bottom of your stomach, holding you in place. He gave you several “_tsk_”s and shook his head, “Nu-uh-uh, I’m gonna take my time with this, sweetheart.” 

  
Sickeningly slowly, he pushed his cock past your pussy lips and you felt him at your entrance. He slid in slowly, only allowing a few inches of himself in, “Fuck, you are so fucking tight doll,” he said through gritted teeth. 

  
You held onto his forearms and dug your nails into his muscles as he stretched you like no other man had done before. The pressure giving off a pleasant burn as he entered you for what would be the first, but definitely not the last, time. You had to close your eyes and focus on your breathing as he slid forward a little further. The two of you exchanged expletives and breathed heavily as Dean worked to bury himself inside of you. 

  
When he had finally bottomed out, he leaned down, his cheek next to yours and stilled. With him completely inside of you, you felt so . . . full. Not only physically, but emotionally and spiritually as well. Your memory flashed back to the day that he kissed you for the first time. That same feeling of wholeness washed over you. Something inside of you clicked into place and it was as if the world outside of the Impala disappeared so there was only you and Dean in this moment. 

  
His breath was hot and heavy against your ear and you squeezed your vaginal muscles, urging him for more friction. He sucked in through his teeth, “Woah, woah what you doing there?”

  
“I’m waiting for you to move, jackass,” you teased as you nibbled on his right ear. 

  
“Just, just give me a minute,” he replied breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. 

  
“Are you telling me my Dean is a “one two pump chump”?” you asked with a little giggle. 

  
He nudged his cheek against yours, “No way! Shut up, I’m just, Jesus babe, you just feel so fucking amazing. Better than I ever imagined.”

  
You purred, “You too Dean. I love you so much.”

  
He turned his head and kissed you sweetly before gazing into your eyes for who knows how long, “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

  
“You make me feel that way.”

  
“Good,” he replied before kissing you again. 

  
You stayed like this for several minutes and then he finally propped himself up on his forearms, “Okay, I think I’m good. How you doin’, sweetheart?”

  
You traced your right hand down his face and smacked his ass with the other, “Oh, I’m ready Dean.”

  
The tendons in the muscles of his arms flexed as he closed his eyes in concentration and pulled himself slowly out until only the tip of his cock was left. He thrust back in at a gingerly pace and repeated his motions over and over, allowing you to get used to his girth and length. You ran your hands up and down his arms, around his back, anywhere that was within reaching distance. You wrapped your legs around his waist, rocking your hips to meet him thrust for thrust. 

  
The air in the Impala was starting to get hot and humid and Dean’s brow shined with a light sheen of sweat. He tried to kiss you, but you could only do it a couple of times before you had to drop your head back onto the seat to focus on the exquisite pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. He buried his head in your neck and picked up his pace. The only sounds in the car were that of skin slapping against skin, your and Dean’s heavy breathing and the rain pinging on the metal hood of Baby.

  
You could feel your orgasm growing deep from within and knew that it would soon be crashing down on you like a runaway train. You panted, “Dean, I, I . . . shit, don’t stop.”

  
He bit down on your shoulder and planted an open mouthed kiss before grunting out, “I know. Fuck (Y/N), you feel so goddamn good.”

  
He reached down one hand and started to rub your clit in tight, little circles, sending flashes of lightning up and down your spine, “Hoooooly shiiit, Dean!”

  
Dean snapped his hips faster and faster, “Yeah, come on, nerd, come with me.”

  
All of the muscles in your body tensed and with his husky command the tightness inside of you snapped, sending rolling waves of pleasure crashing down inside of you. Your toes curled up in bliss as you screamed out his name. The quivering of your internal muscles was enough to send Dean spiraling over the edge with his own orgasm. His thrusting faltered as he pumped into you one, two, three more times before he buried himself in you, calling out your name like a prayer. 

  
Little aftershocks rolled through you as he collapsed on top of you, his skin hot and sticky, breathing erratic. Your hands ran up and down his back and you tried to slow your breathing down to a normal pace, soaking in the afterglow as endorphins flooded your system. He must’ve finally regained coherent thought, because he lifted his body off of yours and turned so that the two of you were laying side by side, with your back up against the seat.

  
He reached back and pulled a blanket out from underneath the front seat to cover the two of you up. You couldn’t help but to laugh hard, “Where the hell did that come from?”

  
“I always keep a blanket in the car in case I have to spend the night in it or something.”

  
You placed your hand on his cheek as he tucked the blanket behind your back, “So, you have a blanket in Baby, but not condoms?” He shrugged his shoulders and you replied, “Dean, don’t ever change.”

  
His eyes roamed over your face, never lingering on one feature for too long, “That was . . .”

  
“Wow, yeah,” you said finishing his sentence, “Why did we wait so long to do that?”

  
“Hey, it wasn’t my idea. I would’ve done that the first night I met you.”

  
“Oh, so it’s all my fault then?”

  
“Yeah, this one’s on you, babe.”

  
You shook your head, “Don’t let me make another idiotic decision like that ever again.”

  
He answered, his lips brushing against yours, “I’ll do my best.”

  
You two shared a sweet kiss before resting your arm on his head. The two of you must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, Dean was grumbling and shifting to sit up and reach for something in his pants. As he reached for his phone, you realized it had been vibrating. He answered the call, “This better be good, Cas. . . I’m not telling you . . . What? . . . Are you serious? Now? . . . Come on, Cas, I’m kind of in the middle of something . . . Yeah, she is . . . Fine, we’ll be there in a little bit.”

  
He rolled his eyes and nestled back into you, “I swear, Cas has the worst timing.”

  
You smiled lazily and curled into him, “What does he want?”

  
“He said he needs to talk to us.”

  
You groaned, “About?”

  
“He wouldn’t say, but I’m hoping he found something out about Kelly Kline.”

  
“And he wants to tell us know?!”

  
Dean chuckled, “Yeah, yeah he does.”

  
You huffed and Dean and started to sit up. He winked and spoke sarcastically, “Well, I got what I wanted, time to go.”

  
You slapped his arm and pulled him back down, “Asshole! So, you only wanna do that one time, huh?”

  
He planted kisses along your jaw, your nose, your eyes and finally landed on your lips as he said, “No way. I wanna do that again and again and again.”

  
“Only if you play your cards right,” you replied as you pressed your body against his. 

  
Fifteen minutes later, after much more teasing and flirty back and forth banter, you two were dressed and finally on the road back to the bunker. You were cuddled up under Dean’s protective embrace. The whole world had changed and even the air felt different as it whipped in and out of the open windows of the Impala. You skin buzzed with the after effects of your tryst with Dean and he hummed along to Warrant crooning out from the radio. 

  
You went over a bump in the road and your stomach lurched at the unexpected jump. However, instead of going away, you tummy continued to toss and turn in knots. You groaned as razor sharp pinpricks stabbed at your stomach. You clutched at your abdomen and Dean took notice, “Everything okay?”

  
“No, my stomach, it . . .” but your words were choked off when that same piercing sensation skated across your back. You sat up straight, throwing your head back, “Fuck!!!!!!!!”

  
Dean was doing his best to focus on the road, but his attention was divided between it and you, “Babe, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  
You could feel your dinner threatening to hurl its way back up and out into the car. Your hand flew to your mouth. You mumbled, “Dean, pull over, I don’t feel good.”

  
“What?”

  
You briefly moved your hand, “I said pull Baby over or else I’m gonna be sick in her!”

  
He quickly slammed on the brakes, lurching you forward so you had to brace yourself against the dashboard. He pulled off onto the side of the road and threw Baby in park. You struggled to open the door and once you were out of the car, you stumbled a few feet forward, hunched over, but nothing came out. 

  
Dean was quickly at your side, “Do you think it’s something you ate? What’s wrong?”

  
“I don’t know, just, just give me a second, okay?”

  
Dean went to rub your up and down you back, trying to soothe you, but it only added to the agonizing ache running up and down your spinal column. You turned around, breaking the contact between him and you. Suddenly an unseen force pulled on your body, straightening you out and throwing your arms down and to your side. 

  
“What the hell?” Dean screamed. 

  
You could only yell out incoherent bits and pieces of words as an excruciating pain radiated up and down your back, before circling around to focus on your scapulas. You felt as if something was trying to claw or scratch its way out. Every muscle in your body twitched and convulsed. You closed your eyes, trying to will the pain to go away. 

  
Dean reached out to touch your shoulder, but pulled back as soon as he made contact, “Son of a bitch, it’s like you’re on fire!”

  
“Dean, Dean, something’s wrong!” you screamed, tears falling down your cheeks. 

  
“Just, just hang on!” He said, trying to be as encouraging as possible. 

  
Suddenly, the pain started to change and you felt a peaceful warmth replace the stabbing and a wave of euphoria washed over you. Then, you swore you saw a bright light flash behind your eyes and heard a powerful *_whoosh_* as a gust of wind blew past. Your felt your muscles relax and the world around you went still. 

  
“I, I think I’m better,” you said as you opened your eyes. 

  
However, Dean was anything but okay. His eyes were wide as he stared obscenely at you. Well, he wasn’t so much as staring at you as something behind you. You started to walk forward, away from the danger, but he held out a hand towards you, “Stop.”

  
He sounded frightened and shocked. You asked in a shaky voice, “Dean, what is it? What’s behind me?”

  
He pointed up and just above your shoulders, “Look.”

  
“Jesus, just tell me what it is, Dean!”

  
“No, you need to see for yourself,” he insisted. 

  
Tentatively, you turned your head to the side and gasped. You turned your head to the other side and almost fainted. There, jutting out from behind your back was a pair of silver wings with black tips. You looked back to Dean who nodded, as if he was saying, “Yep, those are totally fucking wings you just grew.”

  
You looked back and forth between him and your new accessory several times before shouting at the top of your lungs, “WHY THE FUCK DO I HAVE WINGS?!?!?!”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . . . Soooooooo . . . . A lot went down in this chapter! Let me know what you think because any and all comments seriously just make my day! I know I’ve updated quite frequently over the last week, but I have a busy few days at my job coming up, so it will probably be about a week before I post the next chapter and you get some answers, but they are coming soon!


	37. Huntress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is finally able to give you some answers about who and what you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging in there in between longer updates. I’m getting to the point where I’m really having to think about where the story is going and how I’m going to get to where I want to go. Hope you enjoy the chapter! 🤗

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
Dean was staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide and slack jawed as he ogled the new feathered appendages jutting out of your back. 

  
“Dean, why the _fuck_ do I have wings?!” you screamed again. 

  
He had no words, only stood there shaking his head slowly back and forth. 

  
“_This isn’t real, this can’t be real, who the fuck just grows wings??_”

  
After a few moments, he seemed to be capable of coherent speech. He chuckled nervously, and tried to use humor to downplay the seriousness of the situation, “Have you never noticed those before?”

  
If looks could kill, you were pretty sure you’d have accidentally murdered him, “Are you serious right now, Dean? Now is not the time. What the hell does this mean?!”

  
Dean tentatively approached you, reaching out for your hand, “Sorry, I’m just freaking out here too! I have definitely never heard of anything like this happening. How are you feeling?”

  
You took his hand in yours and felt your wings retract and disappear, “I mean, it hurt like hell, but I’m fine now.”

  
His eyes roamed over your body, assessing for any new growths or abnormalities, “Holy shit.”

  
“What?” you asked frantically. 

  
“(Y/N), your scars . . . they’re complete gone,” he replied in almost a daze. 

  
You looked down at your chest and were stunned to see he was right. The skin on either side of your bullet necklace was now smooth and free from any blemishes. Suddenly, you heard high pitched shrieking and ringing. You had to let go of Dean to cover your ears, trying to dull the pain. 

  
“Hey, hey what is it?” Dean asked. 

  
“You don’t hear that?”

  
“Hear what?” he asked in a panic. 

  
You clenched your eyes shut and doubled over, trying to will the the incoherent mumbling out of your mind. Finally, the sounds retreated and all was quiet yet again. You stood up and looked to Dean, trying to remain calm, “What is happening?”

  
“I have no clue, but I swear to God, Cas is going to give us some answers tonight or else. Come on, let’s just try and get back to the bunker,” he replied, opening the door of the Impala for you. 

  
“The bunker, yeah, the bunker,” you said. You could picture the round, brick red entrance and the door leading down to the crow’s nest in your mind. You desperately wanted to be there, to be home where you felt safe and secure from all the dangers of this world. Without warning, you felt the wind knocked out of your lungs and could swear you heard a flapping of wings. You felt weightless for a millisecond and then your feet were slamming hard onto the ground. 

  
You stumbled forward, head spinning and vision blurred. Once you regained your balance, you took in surroundings, “No fucking way!” In just a matter of seconds you had managed to materialize in front of the very doorway that you had pictured in your mind’s eye. 

  
“_What the hell?! I was just with Dean a few miles down the road . . ._”

  
That same disorienting feeling washed over you and you were tripping over your feet once again, but this time, you landed in Dean’s arms. 

  
“Woah, woah there, sweetheart!” he said, holding you close to him, “Where did you go?”

  
You took in heaping lungfuls of the cold, February air, trying desperately to catch your breath. Your hands clung tightly to Dean’s upper forearms as you willed the world to stop spinning around you, “I . . . I don’t . . . I’m pretty sure I just . . . flew?”

  
Dean looked skeptical, “Flew? Flew where?”

  
You started to babble, “I thought of the bunker and suddenly just appeared there. Then I thought of you and this place where we pulled over, and was back here again. This is crazy. This is not happening. I’m going to open my eyes and it’ll have all been a dream. Yeah, yeah that’s it. Because things like this don’t happen. You just don’t grow wings and start flying around. No, no, no this isn’t happening.”

  
Dean held up a finger to your lips, “Shhhh. Just breathe, sweetheart. Big breath in and big breath out.”

  
You did as he ordered and felt yourself start to relax, “How are you so calm about all of this?”

  
He chuckled, “Trust me, I am anything but calm. But, let’s just get home and see what we can find out. Let me help you to the car.”

  
Dean wrapped his arm around your middle and walked you back to Baby, opening the door and tucking you safely inside the passenger seat. Soon, the two of you were back on the road. The radio was off, so the only sound cutting though the quiet night was that of Baby’s purring engine. You were lost in your thoughts, staring out the window and trying to make sense of what had just happened when you felt Dean reach over and interlace his fingers with yours. You turned your head and saw him giving you a comforting smile. You returned it, as best as you could, but remained silent. 

  
When Dean had parked Baby in the garage and you finally summoned enough strength to open your door, you and he strolled hand in hand towards the war room, hoping to find Castiel and Sam. Sure enough, they were sitting at the map table but, as soon as they heard you approaching, they stood to greet you. Dean lead the way, but Cas was looked past him and smiled at you fondly. 

  


“_Oh, sure now he gives me a warm welcome!_”

  
Sam could tell something was off, “Guys . . . What’s wrong?”

  
Cas turned around to face Sam and answered, “Nothing is wrong Sam, everything is going to be great now.” He turned back around and beamed at you like a proud father, “Hello . . . sister.”

  
“Sister?!” you and Dean shrieked. 

  
“Wha . . .what was that Cas?” Sam asked. 

  
Cas nodded his head, “Yes, sister. It’s so good to finally see you as you should be.”

  
Sam was befuddled, “(Y/N), any idea what he’s talking about?” 

  
“Oh! Oh, you wanna know what he’s talking about, Sam?” you replied snarkily, “Watch this!”

  
You took a few steps back and closed your eyes, concentrating on trying to control your . . . wings. You felt them just underneath the surface of your skin and focused on opening them up and stretching them out behind you to show Sam exactly what was going on. Without too much effort, you were able to open them up, putting them on display for the whole room to see. You opened your eyes and examined the very different facial reactions from the three men staring at you. 

  
  


Sam looked like terrified, yet intrigued, “What the actual fuck, (Y/N)?!”

  
Cas was staring in admiration and Dean, well while Dean had looked taken aback the first time they appeared, but this time he almost appeared to be turned on by them. He wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips, attention completely focused on you. 

  
You pulled your wings back in, tucking them away . . . wherever it is they went, and headed to take a seat on top of the map table. Dean followed and sat beside you, the two of you letting your legs dangle off the side. 

  
Sam had come around to the other side of the table to join the rest of you, “(Y/N), were those . . . Do you have . . .”

  
You nodded your head, “Wings? Oh yeah. And guess what, I can apparently fly because I flew to the bunker and back to the car a few minutes ago. Just call me fucking tinker bell!”

  
“You’re not a fairy, (Y/N),” Cas stated matter-of-factly.

  
“Cas I swear to God you better start talking or I’m going to rip the feathers off of your wings,” Dean warned. 

  
“Dean, there’s no need for violence. Now that (Y/N) has gone through her change, I can tell you everything,” he replied. 

  
“The change? You make it sound like menopause or something,” you said to no one in particular. 

  
Cas cocked his head to the side, “No, this has nothing to do with your reproductive cycle. It’s much more than that.”

  
“Cas! Please, just tell me what the hell is going on!” you begged desperately. 

  
Cas started to explain, “As we all know, God loved to create and, especially when he was creating the Earth, he loved to experiment. (Y/N), you are one of the rarest most creatures of all. In fact, no one like you has ever existed before.”

  
“And what exactly is that?” you questioned as Dean rubbed your back. 

  
“A venatrix,” Cas replied. 

  
“A what a trix?” Dean asked, shaking his head.

  
“A venatrix,” Cas repeated, “This is a human who was born with dormant angel grace.”

  
“So, like a nephilim?” you asked in a panic, “Does this mean all the other angels are going to try and kill me?”

  
“Nobody is coming after you. Let them try,” Dean said threatening. 

  
Cas shook his head, “No you are not a nephilim. You are fully human, just with a little extra boost of power. Well, a big boost.”

  
Dean gently elbowed your side, “Hey, so you’re like an X-men? Yeah?”

  
You couldn’t help but to chuckle a little bit before asking, “So exactly what can I do? How powerful am I?”

  
“Well, I’m not really sure,” Cas replied, “Theoretically, a venatrix is supposed to be very powerful, even more so than archangels. But you’re still human, so if you do something strenuous, it will take some time for your grace to recharge. Supposedly, the only being more powerful than you is God and Amara.”

  
“Holy shit,” you whispered under your breath. 

  
Dean stood up, “Hold up, hold up. If she’s a venatrix and they have that much power, how come we’ve never heard of it?”

  
Sam chimed in, “Yeah, I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve read every book in this place and I’ve never heard of a venatrix or anything close to it.”

  
“Like I said fellas,” Cas spoke, “A venatrix must come into their powers.”

  
“And how exactly did she do that?” Sam asked. 

  
“God knew that this would be a huge responsibility for a human to take on, so he wanted to make sure that they would not have to do it alone. Therefore, he mandated that a venatrix’s grace would not become until activated until he or she found their soulmate and consummated the relationship sexually,” Cas answered. 

  
“Soulmate?!” you screeched, “No, no, no that’s not . . . How . . . Who . . . What?! Does that mean Dean and I . . .”

  
Cas nodded his head, “Yes (Y/N), you and Dean are soulmates.”

  
Sam held up his hands, “Wait, are you saying you and Dean haven’t slept together until tonight?”

  
You exhaled sharply, “Really Sam?! That’s what you got out of this conversation?”

  
Sam shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, it’s the craziest thing I’ve heard tonight.”

  
“Shut up Sam!” Dean commanded before turning his focus to Castiel, rubbing his hand up and down his face, “Okay, but still, I mean, no other venatrix in the history of the world has found and slept with their soulmate before tonight? Really?”

  
“Well, our father only had a venatrix pop up every few hundred years or so, so one was not always present on Earth. But eventually, each one always ended up with their soulmate.”

  
“So why didn’t they sprout a pair of wings and go all Harry Potter like I did? What, am I freak or something?” you asked. 

  
Cas smiled, “No, anything but. See, our father wanted the bond to be as strong as possible, so he decreed that the venatrix must be a virgin when they had sexual intercourse with their soulmate in order for the grace to activate. You, (Y/N) are the first one to complete that task successfully.”

  
  


The whole room stilled and was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Castiel just stood there like he didn’t just reveal the most embarrassing secret of your life to your, well apparently fucking soulmate, and his brother. Dean turned tentatively around on his heels and stared at you, eyebrows so high that you swore they reached his hairline. He spoke slowly, “Excuse me, what?”

  
You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, utterly mortified. You shook your head back and forth, unable to form words. You heard Sam utter, “Ohhhhhh,” like he was understanding why it had taken you so long to sleep with his brother. 

  
“(Y/N), you look ashamed. If it makes you feel better, I was a virgin for almost four billion years,” Cas said, trying to comfort you. 

  
“Shut up, Cas!” you and Dean both yelled at the same time. 

  
You lifted your head and stared into Dean’s gorgeous green eyes. A myriad of emotions ranging from confusion to worry to anger flashed across his face. You took in a deep breath and started babbling again, “Uh, yeah, right then. Okay, um, is anybody else thirsty? My mouth just got super dry, I’m super thirsty. Think I’m gonna head in to the kitchen and . . .”

  
But you weren’t able to finish your sentence, because the world started to spin around you for the third time of the night. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of the island in the kitchen, stumbling forward and causing a few pans to fall from down from the rack. You slapped the table top and exclaimed at the top of your lungs, “Son of a bitch!”

  
“_I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t realize your lack of sexual experience was a secret to Dean,_” you heard Cas say from out of nowhere.

  
“_Cas_,” you thought, “_How the hell are you in my head?_”

  
“_Angel radio. Now that your grace is active, we can communicate like this. Thirty years is no time at all to remain a virgin, in the grand scheme of things. Be proud of what you are._”

  
“Cas, get out of my head!” you screamed aloud. 

  
“So, now Cas can speak to you telepathically?” Dean asked, stepping into the kitchen. 

  
“_This day has been way too long._”

  
You refused to turn around, but managed to reply to Dean, “Yeah, apparently I’m live and on air with angel radio. Explains the weird sounds I heard back on the side of the road. Aren’t I lucky? Just call me DJ freakazoid.”

  
“You kind of just ran away there, princess. I think we have more to discuss,” he said as if he were approaching a scared animal, which to be honest, is exactly how you felt at this moment. 

  
You turned around, throwing your hands up in the air, “Where do you wanna start Dean? That I’m officially a weird thing now or that we are supposedly soulmates, which makes no fucking sense at all. I mean, no, no, no. We can’t be, I’m definitely not . . . I mean you could be, but me? No, no, no I’m not that lucky. There’s no way, no way we are soulmates.”

  
“Ouch, kick a guy in the ego why don’t ya?” he said playfully. 

  
Dean was close enough that you were able to reach out and lay a hand on his chest, “No, it’s not an insult. I can understand how you would be my soulmate, of course! But me? I know you’ve said wonderful things about me and complimented me, but your soulmate? I don’t know half of the classic rock songs you love, I didn’t grow up in the hunter’s life or have some traumatic event in my past, I hate beer and whiskey and. . . and . . . I’m the complete fucking opposite of Dean Winchester’s soulmate.”

  
He reached behind you and grasped your thighs, hoisting you to sit on top of the kitchen island, “Don’t sell yourself short, babe. Those are just details about our interests. But you, we, are so much more than that. You make me laugh harder than anyone I’ve ever known. You don’t put up with my bullshit and call me out on it right away, which can be annoying, but it’s refreshing at the same time. You’re always willing to try new things and most of all, you’ve always been in my corner, on my side, since the day I met you. That’s soulmate material right there.”

  
He cupped a hand in your cheek and you couldn’t help but to close your eyes and lean into it. He sighed, “Me on the other hand, I don’t get how I even have a soulmate. No wonder you had to come from another world. No one here would take me,” he finished with a chuckle. 

“You know, that part actually makes sense,” you replied before kissing his hand.

  
“Gee, thanks doll.”

  
“No, I mean that, Dean, I’ve told you before but I’ll tell you again. You are the most amazing, caring, selfless man that I’ve ever met. You’re a big dork too and I have so much fun when we’re together. I know I can tease you and you’ll give it right back to me. But, when you think about it, your soulmate was going to have to be someone that knew all about you before you even met. Maybe me being in the wrong reality for a while wasn’t a mistake. Maybe it was destiny.”

  
“What are you talking about?” Dean asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. 

  
“Just think about it Dean. Consider everything you’ve been through in your life. I know all about you selling your soul to save Sam, the forty years you spent in hell, how the mark of Cain really affected you and the six months you spent as a demon. Hell, I bet I know some things that Sam doesn’t even know.”

  
He scoffed, “You may know a lot of my darkest secrets, but I doubt there’s thing you know that my brother doesn’t.”

  
“Oh yeah? When you had the ghost sickness and were almost scared to death, I know you saw Lilith as a little girl. That’s what you were most afraid of. Did you ever tell Sam about that?”

  
“Well no . . .”

  
“Or when you were after this one kid who was hurting people in their dreams, before you went to hell. You saw yourself as a demon. Did you tell him about that?”

  
“No, no I didn’t.”

  
“Or when you had the mark of Cain and went into confession with the priest at this one church to try and get the ghost of a woman who was betrayed by a man to come after you, you told him just how much you wanted to live and not die. Or when . . .”

  
He waved a hand in the air, “Okay, okay I get it. You know a lot about me that Sam doesn’t. Point for you.”

  
You could see the pain and sadness in his eyes as he mentally relived some of the most darkest memories of his past. You didn’t mean to air all of his dirty laundry, you were just trying to explain your rationale. You patted him on the shoulder, “Dean, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought all that up. I was just trying to prove a point. There’s no way you would’ve told someone all of that or even gotten close enough to someone to consider telling them that.”

  
“You’re not wrong,” Dean replied, refusing to say those three little words you longed to hear from him. 

  
“Soulmates, wow,” you said shaking your head.

  
“Uh, I’m more interested in the other thing,” Dean commanded in a gruff voice. 

  
“Oh, yeah? What other thing?” you asked, trying to play the fool.

  
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  
“Nope, not a clue,” you replied, shaking your head. 

  
He cupped your cheek, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  
“Tell you what?”

  
He sighed heavily, “(Y/N), why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

  
“Oh . . . that thing.”

  
He dropped his hand and paced around the kitchen, intermittently running a hand through his thick, dark hair, “Yeah, _that_ thing. Jesus (Y/N), if I had known . . . I would’ve done things differently, especially tonight. I would’ve, I don’t know, at least taken you someplace nice and tried to make it special. Not just throw you down in the back of the fucking car!”

  
“Hey! First of all, do not refer to your Impala as just some car. She’s Baby. You of all people should know that.”

  
“When it comes to someone, especially you, losing their virginity, with me, it should not have been in the car!” Dean retorted angrily. 

  
You tried to respond quietly and calmly, so Dean would really listen to you, “Dean, Baby is the most important car, the most important object, in history. She was your father’s and then yours. She has been your and Sam’s home when you had no home. We had our first kiss on Baby. We got to know each other in Baby. You . . . you touched me for the first time in Baby. She’s an integral part of your life and now mine and,” you smiled to yourself, “I wouldn’t have changed a thing about tonight.”

  
He walked back over and stood in front of you, running his hands down your hips and legs as he admired your body, “But how? How were you still a virgin after all this time?”

  
You reveled in his caress, “I don’t know. I studied hard in high school to get into a good college. Then in college I was crazy busy with working a part time job and classes. Then I graduated and started working night shifts at my hospital, which didn’t always leave a lot of time for dating or meeting new people. Then I was in my mid twenties and I didn’t just want it to happen with anyone, I wanted it to be special. And no one ever was . . .”

  
“So had you ever done anything? With anyone?” Dean asked, still in shock at your sexual inexperience. 

  
You bit your lip nervously, “You’re the only one that’s ever touched me like that, Dean.”

  
He smirked, “Geez, I take a girl’s virginity and make her one of the most powerful creatures in the universe. I must have the special touch.”

  
“Oh yeah, it was all you cowboy,” you said, pulling him closer and locking your ankles behind his back.

  
“I wish you would’ve told me.”

  
“I know, but I didn’t want you to treat me any differently.”

  
He rolled his eyes playfully, “No, we could’ve been stockpiling our own cabinet of virgin blood. Duh!”

You started at him with a blank face until he started to look embarrassed by his joke. Finally, you let him off the hook, “Damn, that would’ve been a good idea. Oh well, maybe next time.”

  
“Next time? Pretty sure that bell can’t be unrung,” he said nipping at your nips and sparking fire in your core..

  
You teasing pulled your face out of his reach, “Hmmm, maybe we should rattle some pots and pans then?”

  
He eyed you suspiciously, “Really? Here?”

  
You reached up and started to unbutton his top, “Unless you don’t want to?”

  
“But, Cas and Sam are right out there,” he pointed out looking towards the war room. 

  
“And that’s exactly where they’ll stay if they know what’s good for them,” you said before leaning forward and kissing him along his jaw. 

  
Dean allowed you to slip his red shirt down his shoulders and toss it to the ground. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you towards the edge of the island, pushing your dress up so the cold, metallic surface chilled the back of your thighs. His fingers reached for your zipper, pulling it agonizingly slowly down while you sucked on his neck, marking his flesh with your lips and tongue. 

  
He unceremoniously unsnapped your bra and tugged your dress down. You lifted your head and worked your arms out of your clothing, leaving your upper body exposed to him. He cupped one breast in his hand, his thumb and forefinger rolling your nipple, causing your pussy to clench in anticipation. 

  
“Dean, fuck,” you moaned as he fisted a handful of your hair.

  
“Mmmmm, my name sounds so good coming out of that pretty mouth of yours,” he mused before crashing his lips against yours in a slow, passionate kiss. 

  
You could feel the bulge in his pants rubbing along the inside of your thigh, letting you know just how much he loved hearing you call out his name. He lowered his head away from your mouth to wrap his gorgeous pink lips around your erect nipple and took turns licking and sucking at the sensitive flesh. You ran your hands through his hair, “Dean, shit, I want you.”

  
He broke contact briefly to pull his shirt up and over his head, allowing you to rake your fingers up and down his chest several times before he turned his attention to your other breast. Suddenly, you heard the younger Winchester clear his throat from just outside the kitchen, “Guys, uh, you two okay in there?”

  
“Go away, Sam!” Dean ordered. 

  
“Come on Dean, Cas is still out here and we can hear you two,” Sam whined. 

  
“I said go away! We’ll be out in a minute,” Dean yelled more forcefully this time before a moan escaped his mouth as you reached down and rubbed his growing erection. 

  
“(Y/N)?” Sam called out, hoping you would be the voice of reason, “Please, come on. I will come in there.”

  
You lifted your hips up off the island so Dean could rid you of your dress and underwear. Dean stood in front of you, staring at you hungrily as you unbuckled his belt and helped him push his pants and underwear down. 

“That’s it, I’m coming in there,” Sam warned. 

  
You screamed back, “Sam, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You just found out I am something with immense power and you are about to piss me off! I love you Sam, but go away!”

  
Dean licked his lips, “Fuck, that’s hot.”

  
You reached down and began pumping his dick, causing his eyes to roll in the back of his head, “Son of a bitch.”

  
When you didn’t hear Sam calling out anymore empty threats, you knew he had taken the hint and stepped away. You scooted forward until your ass was almost hanging off the side of the island and lined Dean up at your entrance. He grunted as you slipped his head past your folds, wetting him with your arousal. You occasionally slid him over your clit, sending little shocks up your spine. 

  
He grabbed your hips so tightly you knew there’d be bruises there tomorrow, “Are you sure? You’re not still sore from earlier are you?”

  
“Only in a good way,” you said with a wink. 

  
You unconsciously held your breath as Dean took over control and thrust slowly into you, not stopping until he had bottomed out. There was a pleasurable sting that accompanied his thick cock stretching you out, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut as your body opened up to let him in. 

  
Dean breathed heavily as he buried his fingers into the soft flesh at your hips, “Shit babe, you’re still tight.”

  
You wrapped your hands around his neck and moaned, the need for friction was becoming too much to bear, “Dean, I love you babe, but if you don’t start fucking me soon, I’m going to lose my mind.”

  
He chuckled playfully, “Now who’s the inpatient one?”

  
“Dean . . .” you started to say, but were caught off guard when Dean pulled back and slammed into you, “Oh, fuck!”

  
Dean settled into a fast and steady rhythm, dragging his cock out until just the tip remained inside of you before slamming forcefully back into your warm, wet pussy. You spread your legs as far as you could and reached above your head, grabbing onto the racks above to try and stabilize yourself. You tried to kiss him, but the two of you were so caught up in the moment, mouths open to take in quick, shallow breaths that it made it impossible to kiss for longer than just a few seconds. 

  
“Wraps your legs around me.” Dean moaned. 

  
You did as he said and suddenly, he was lifting you off the island, dick still buried deep within you, and walking you over to the kitchen table. He sat you down and commanded you to lay down. You did as he ordered, the hard wood stiff and cold under your back. Your legs hung lazily off the side as you laid spread eagle out before him. He reached down and grabbed your breasts, “Good girl.”

  
You reached up and tried to touch any piece of him that you could reach, but he swatted you away, “Nu, uh uh, just lay back and relax.”

  
Instead you gripped the side of the table and hung on as Dean picked up his relentless thrusting. He leaned forward, throwing one of your legs over your shoulder, changing the angle his dick rubbed against you. He started to brush along that sweet spot that could’ve make you speak in tongues had you been capable of coherent speech. Your skin was electrified by every little touch, kiss and graze that Dean bestowed upon your body. You started rolling your hips up to meet him thrust for thrust and soon you felt the pressure inside of you start to come to a head. 

  
You grunted, “Dean, don’t stop. Fuck, I’m gonna come, Dean.”

  
He reached a hand down between you and started rubbing tight, little circles on your clit with his thumb, “Come on princess, come for me.”

  
Dean thrust into you a few more times and sent you spiraling over the edge of your second orgasm of the night. He dropped your leg down as you started to convulse around his dick, allowing you to dig your heels into his ass, trying to hold him closer to you as your body shook in ecstasy. Dean snapped his hips a couple more times before you felt his pace falter as he found his own release before collapsing on top of you. 

  
You ran your hands up and down his back, smiling to yourself in satisfaction, “Dean, that was just as good as the first time.”

  
He turned his head to look at you, “I guess you could say I’ve given you the best sex of your life, huh?”

  
You smiled, “Ha ha ha, Dean. But technically, you could also say you’ve given me the worst sex of my life too.”

  
“That’s not funny,” he replied with a straight face, but mischief in his eyes. 

  
“It’s a little funny.”

  
“Guess I’ll have to keep my game fresh then,” he said before kissing you lovingly for several long minutes. 

  
When the two of you were getting dressed after consummating your relationship in the bunker’s kitchen, he clicked his tongue and you turned to see him staring at you as you slid your dress back on. 

  
“What?” you asked curiously. 

  
He strolled over, opting to have only put his black shirt back on and helped you zip up your dress, “It’s just, I would not have predicted that you’d be the one to actually convince me to have sex in the kitchen with Sam and Cas just outside the door.”

  
You traced a finger along his jawline, “Oh Dean, Dean, Dean. I may have been a virgin, but that’s just because I didn’t have anybody fun to play with.”

  
“Oh, so does that mean I get to be your new sex toy?” he asked wiggling his eyebrows. 

  
“Only if you think you can handle the ride.”

  
He licked his lips and flushed his body up against yours and before giving you another searing kiss, he whispered, “Yippie ki yay.”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
After your little tryst in the kitchen, you and (Y/N) strolled hand in hand back into the war room. Castiel was standing by the table and Sam was nowhere in sight. 

  
“Where’s Sammy?” you asked marching up the steps. 

  
“He said something about wanting to stab his eyes out with a blunt object and disappeared down the hallway,” Cas replied. 

  
She snickered at your side, “Aww poor little Sam. Cas, do you care to go get him so we can finish our discussion about whatever the hell I am?”

  
“Sure, I’ll be right back,” he answered. 

  
You took a seat in one of the chairs and before she could do the same, you pulled her into your lap, “So, I didn’t know you were such an exhibitionist.”

  
She sat sideways across your legs, wrapping one arm around your neck, “Well, now that I know what I was missing out on, it’s gonna be hard to keep my hands to myself.”

  
You circled an arm around her back and let your hand rest on her upper thigh. You started to lazily rub your thumb back and forth across her exposed flesh, “Well, as long as they’re on me, I’m all for it.”

  
She leaned in a little closer and whispered, “How long until you think we can christen the rest of the bunker?”

  
“Well, I’ll need a little bit to recharge, but then I’m all yours,” you said with a wink. 

  
“Good,” she replied before pressing her lips onto yours. 

  
You heard Sam groan, “Cas, I thought you said they were finished.”

  
“They’re soulmates Sam, they’re bound to show affection towards one another,” Cas answered. 

  
She broke contact and turned towards your brother and Castiel, “Uh speaking of soulmates, you all seemed pretty calm about that whole part. I mean, I guess Cas knew, but Sam, you didn’t seem to be that freaked out about the news.”

  
Sam didn’t reply, but instead looked awkwardly towards you, as if he was asking, “_Dude, you haven’t told her yet?_”

You shook your head, but she caught the little exchange and focused her attention on you, “What was that? I can tell when you two are doing that little brotherly telepathic communication thing.” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to deflect the question until later, but she was like a dog with a bone, “Winchester, there’s something you know that you aren’t telling me. What’s this about?”

  
You sighed heavily and shifted her in your lap so you could reach into your back pocket, “I’ve been wanting to share this with you since the day we met, but I just didn’t know when the right time would be. I guess now is a good a time as any.”

  
The envelope was folded in half and crinkled from being shuffled around in your jeans these last several months. You didn’t dare leave it out of your sight or somewhere where she might have found it randomly. You turned the weathered letter over in your hands several times, still silently debating whether or not you should let her read its contents. 

  
A slight gasp escaped her mouth when she realized what you were holding. Her eyes were glued to the letter, “Is that . . . Are you gonna tell me what it says? Dean, what does it say? Does it say something about me? About us?”

  
You took a deep breath and handed it to her. She quickly pulled the scrap of paper out and read the message that you had seared in your brain: 

  
_My Dearest Dean,_

_As another thank you for reuniting my brother and I,_   
_I hereby return you soulmate to you. She was . . . misplaced._   
_Take care of each other._

_-Amara_

  
She closed her eyes and shook her head several times before reading the letter again. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Finally, she cocked her head to the side and looked at you, “So, this is the letter you got the first day you met me?”

  
“Yep,” you replied, trying to gauge her reaction. 

  
“From Amara? God’s sister? The freakin’ darkness?” she asked as she waved her hand around in the air, occasionally pointing at the letter. 

  
You tried to remain as still as possible, “Mmhmm.”

  
She pointed a thumb to Castiel and Sam, “And these two? I’m guessing they knew before tonight?”

  
“Well, Cas obviously knew and Sam was starting to get a little scared of you after the whole incident where you killed that demon with your mind, so I had to tell him.”

  
She looked hurt by your words. She slowly turned her head around towards your brother, “Really Sam? You were scared of me?”

  
Sam gave her a small smile, “(Y/N), I mean, the only time I ever saw anyone else do that was me when I was . . . well you know. Drinking demon blood,” he said shamefully, “So, to see something like that again, yeah, it scared the shit out of me.”

  
She nodded, “I can understand that. Are you, are you still scared?”

  
He chuckled lightly, “Only that I’m gonna walk in on you and Dean doing something I have no desire in seeing.”

  
She laughed and absentmindedly ran her hand across the words scrawled on the small piece of paper in her lap. After a few seconds, she reared back her hand and smacked your shoulder, “You’re an asshole!”

  
“Ow! What the hell was that for?”

  
She held the paper up in front of your face, “You knew this information the whole time and didn’t tell me! Wait, you knew this and still tried to send me back to my original reality even though Amara herself brought me here. What the fuck, Winchester?!”

  
“What was I supposed to say, ‘Oh, sorry you’ve been ripped away from everything you know and everyone you love and your family, but uh, this piece of paper says you’re my soulmate, so why don’t we pop upstairs, light a candle and get busy’? Would you have believed that?”

  
She shifted nervously in your lap, “Well, uh, I don’t, I don’t know, maybe.”

  
“And I still didn’t believe it myself for a long. And yes, I tried to send you away because I didn’t want you to get hurt, no matter how I felt. But I guess it turns out, you can take care of yourself, so I won’t have to worry about that.”

  
“You’re gonna have to do a lot to make up for this, Dean,” she said, her expression softening. 

  
“Well, I’m nothing if not a hardworking, red blooded American,” you replied, pulling her in for a quick kiss. 

  
“Okay, okay, we get it, enough you two,” Sam interjected, “Cas said you two wanted to keep talking about what he knows about (Y/N). Cas, what else can you tell us?”

  
“There’s not too much more to tell, only a few rumors and bits of hearsay that traveled through the grapevine from God to the rest of us through Joshua,” Cas answered. 

  
She leaned against your chest, “Well, anything will be a big help.” 

  
Cas started to speak, “The biggest thing we’ve been told is that a venatrix has one of the most purest souls in the universe and is one of the most trustworthy creatures to ever have been created.”

  
“Really?” you asked in disbelief.

  
She scoffed, “Why is that so hard to believe?”

  
“Nothing against you sweetheart, I’m just dumbfounded that someone like that could be my soulmate.”

  
She ran a hand through your hair, “Well, you shouldn’t be so surprised. If anything, this should reinforce everything good that I’ve tried to tell you about yourself, but somehow doesn’t quite make it through that thick skull of yours.”

  
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you replied slightly embarrassed. 

  
She suddenly pursed her lips in concentration, “So, wait. Cas? Is, is that why Mirabel and Benjamin acted differently when they saw me? Could they tell what I was?”

  
Cas smiled knowingly, “Yes, (Y/N). We angels can spot a venatrix, but we have to see them in person. So, as soon as they laid eyes on you, they knew that they could trust you and believe your story about Ishim.”

  
“Awesome,” you added. 

  
“Yeah, no kidding,” she concurred.

  
Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “Cas, why couldn’t you just tell us all of this from the beginning? It would’ve made things a lot easier.”

  
“Yeah, Cas, what the hell?” she yelped. 

  
Castiel started to apologize, “I’m sorry to deceive you, but if an angel tells a venatrix what they are before they develop their powers, then their grace is automatically deactivated forever. They have to find and mate with their soulmate of their own free will.”

  
Sam was curious to know more, “What else do the rumors say about (Y/N)?”

  
Cas sighed, “Well, like I said earlier, there’s the thought that a venatrix is almost as powerful as God. No other being harnesses as much power. However, even if a venatrix’s grace has not activated, its said that as they get closer to their mate, sometimes their power can come out in times of great distress.”

  
“So, that would explain the demon and the werewolf thing,” Sam commented. 

  
“What werewolf thing?” Cas queried. 

  
“I uh, apparently I healed a girl from becoming a werwolf,” she explained bashfully.

  
“Oh, well yes, that would be because of your powers, (Y/N),” Cas confirmed. 

  
You nudged your shoulder against hers, “Well, go ahead doll, show us what you got. Let’s take those special skills out for a test drive.”

  
She scoffed, “Yeah, no pressure or anything, right? I don’t know what I can do or what powers I have. Even if I did, I’m not entirely sure how to control them.”

  
“Go ahead, give it a shot. Try something, anything,” you said encouragingly.

  
She rolled her eyes, “Fine, but don’t blame me if I spontaneously combust something.” She closed her eyes and held out a hand towards the map table. Once she seemed satisfied with whatever she was trying to do, she snapped her fingers. Surprisingly, two of the Elvis burgers and plates of chili cheese fries appeared on the table. 

  
  


“Awesome, that’s a thing of beauty,” you said patting her on the back and giving her a chef’s kiss as she beamed ear to ear. 

  
“Really (Y/N), you can do practically anything and you choose to pull food out of thin air?” Sam said shaking his head. 

  
She reached for her burger and gave you a wink, “Hey, I was hungry after my extracurricular activities.”

  
You reached for the other burger and dug in, “Oh, babe, this is great. Nice opening act.”

  
“Why must I always be the adult here?” Sam asked to no one in particular. 

  
“Anyway, so, what should I watch out for?” she queried, turning her attention back to Cas. 

  
“What do you mean?” he answered in confusion. 

  
“I’m talking about, what can kill me?” she clarified. 

  
Cas finally understood, “Oh, well that part is a bit tricky. No one quite knows for sure. An answer may have been in the angel tablet, but since it was destroyed, we can’t be for certain. The only bit of information we have about that is cryptic. It was said that the one that gives the power is the one that can take it away if they wield the right weapon.”

  
“So, Dean then? Technically, Dean gave me my power, so he’d be the one to have to, what kill me?” she asked half frightened. 

  
You took another bite of your sandwich, “So I guess you better not piss me off.”

  
She elbowed you, “That’s not funny Dean.”

  
You mimicked her words from earlier, “It’s a little funny.”

  
Sam tapped Cas on the shoulder, “So, wait a minute. Does this mean she could take out Dagon and Lucifer’s kid?”

  
“I think so,” Cas nodded, “That’s why I kept hoping she would get her powers a little sooner than now. It would’ve fixed a lot of things.”

  
You swallowed a mouthful of fries, “Hear that, sweetheart, turns out you’re the answer to all our problems after all.”

  
“Yeah, sounds great,” she said apprehensively. 

  
“Of course, like (Y/N) said, she must learn to control her powers. This is all very new territory for everyone,” Cas added. 

  
She whipped her head around, “That’s right, I mean, I still have a lot to learn, so who knows exactly what I can and can’t do.” She exhaled sharply and stood to her feet, “Look everyone, my mind is fried from everything that’s gone on today. I, I think I just need to get a shower and some sleep. I need to reboot before I can tackle anymore of this.”

  
You fished off your burger and joined her, “Sounds good, we can get to work on figuring out your Jedi mind tricks in the morning.”

  
She walked over to Cas and gave him a hug, “Thanks for explaining everything Cas. So, you really mean it, when you say that I’m trustworthy?”

  
“Of course, (Y/N). It’s the reason why I trusted you so much all of this time.”

  
“Good, good to know. So, have you found Kelly yet?”

  
Cas sighed, “Not yet, but I think I may have a lead.”

  
You clapped her on the shoulder, “Sounds like we might be able to wrap this one up pretty easily, if we’re luckily.”

  
She bit her lip, “Yeah, sure does. Great, just great . . .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of information was revealed here about who and what our reader is! How do you think it’s going to impact the future and her desire to keep Jack safe?


	38. Into the Fold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected guest to the bunker interrupts your plans for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody that continues to read and leave compliments! I’m sorry if the updates have slowed down a bit, but things are getting hairy and I’m thinking 20-30 chapters ahead and not wanting to leave any plot holes, so thanks for sticking in there with me! Now, onto the story!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
The scalding hot water raining down from the shower head was usually a nice place to escape the chaos of your new hunter life. Tonight, however, it was doing nothing to relax your muscles or clear your mind from the dreadful thoughts that continued to bounce around in your mind like an annoying gnat. The night had started off like a dream, with Dean Winchester starring as your valentine and you secretly giving him your virginity in the back of your favorite car. 

  
“_But then those fucking wings. And powers?! As strong as God? Soulmates? Amara brought me here herself? I guess the darkness isn’t all bad. Now they wanna try to use me to kill precious little Jack?! This should be the happiest day of my life and now . . . now . . ._ ”

  
“Fuck me, what the hell am I going to do?” you uttered just under your breath as the water continued to relentlessly pound down on your head. 

  
You turned off the shower, brushed your hair and decided to braid it into a single, side braid. You dressed in a basic pair of black shorts and matching tank top before sleepily traipsing back to your and Dean’s bedroom. You opened the door quietly, half expecting him to be asleep, but he was still up, messing around on his phone. 

  
He gave you a small nod, “How you doing there?”

  
You made your way over to the bed and slinked under the covers and into his welcoming arms, “Let’s just say this will go down as the most memorable unattached drifter Christmas of my life.”

  
He laughed heartily, “Yeah, this is definitely gonna be hard to beat. I can’t help but to keep laughing at the irony of it all.”

  
“Of what?”

  
“Heh, heh, you literally came into your powers.”

  
You gave him a blank stare, so he wiggled his eyebrows and repeated himself with emphasis on a certain words, “Get it? You _came_ into your powers?”

  
You shook your head and grinned, “Dean, if I wasn’t so utterly exhausted and overwhelmed from today, that would be hilarious.”

  
He squeezed you close to him, “Just know that I got your back, as long as you don’t stab me with your wings.”

  
“Oh, you’re just on a roll tonight, huh?”

  
He kissed your cheek, “Try not to worry too much.”

  
“You, the king of worrying and stressing out about the future, are telling me not to worry too much?”

  
“What can I say, I got a good feeling about all this. For once in my miserable, insignificant life, I feel like I got an ace up my sleeve.”

  
You chuckled, “So now I’m just a card for you to play?”

  
“No, that’s not what I meant . . .”

  
You rolled to your side to face him and patted him on the cheek, “I know, I know. I just . . . If you had asked me six months ago that I’d be here with you and all of this going on, I would’ve said you were crazy. Plus, now I feel like everyone is expecting me to just kill Lucifer’s son and . . .”

  
“_I’m not going to do it and you’re all probably going to hate me afterwards._”

  
Dean was quiet, allowing you to gather your thoughts, but you couldn’t finish your sentence. Instead, a few stray tears slipped down your face as you realized that you were probably going to have to reveal that you had been lying to your new family about Jack all this time, very, very soon. 

  
Dean brushed your tears away, “Hey, you’ll do your best. Sam and me, we’ll help you train and don’t ever expect us to ever be disappointed in you as long as you try your hardest. I got you, sweetheart.”

  
You sniffled, “Thanks Dean, that means the world to me.”

  
“Well, like Cas said, you’re apparently one of the most trustworthy beings in the world. Lucky me,” he replied before giving you a long, lingering kiss. 

  
You buried your face into his chest, praying that this would not be the last night he held you dearly in his arms. He rubbed a hand up and down your back, “Night, princess.”

  
You kissed his chest, “Night, Dean.”

  
The next thing you knew, you were in a dark, cavernous building with ceilings at least thirty feet tall. You could make out a shadow figure at the head of the room with its back towards you. You heard its deep voice laughing manically as a sudden, bright light emanated from him, blinding your vision, but you could hear Dean’s disembodied voice calling out from the shadow’s general direction. You tried to run towards him, but a sharp, stabbing pain in your side stopped you. You tried to call out for him, “Dean! NO! I’m coming! Dean . . . Dean . . . DEAN!!”

  
Your body was jolted awake by a shaking sensation and someone yelling in your face, “Wake up! (Y/N)! Wake up! Wake up!”

  
You opened your eyes and immediately saw the concerned, emerald green eyes of your favorite hunter. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, face scrunched up with worry. He was leaning over you with a death grip on your shoulders, “Hey, what’s wrong?!”

  
You were so relieved that he was okay, that whatever horrifying nightmare you had just had was over, that you flung yourself into his chest and sobbed, “Oh my God, Dean! I’m . . . I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  
He wrapped his arms protectively around and tried to soothe you, “It’s okay, I’m right here. Shhhh, I got you.”

  
He repeated himself several times over the course of the next few minutes and rocked you back and forth in his arms until you were able to pull yourself together, “Dean, I’m so sorry. I just, I had this awful nightmare. You were there and in trouble and I couldn’t save you!”

  
He kissed the tip of your nose, “I’m fine. Look at me, I mean, I’m really fine,” he said with a wink. 

  
You couldn’t help but to smile, “Ha ha Dean. It just, it all felt so real. You were in danger and I couldn’t get to you.”

  
“Yeah, well you’re okay. I’m okay. It was just a nightmare.”

  
You wiped your eyes and thought, “_How fucking embarrassing. I feel like a two year old child._”

  
That’s when you noticed that Dean was already fully dressed and not in the same clothes that he slept in last night, “Dean, what time is it?

  
“Almost noon. I was getting ready to come wake you up when I heard you screaming.”

  
“Noon?! I slept until the afternoon?”

  
He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, “Well, you did have a big day yesterday. I was trying to let you rest. How are you feeling?”

  
You smiled to yourself, thinking about your escapades with Dean yesterday, “I’m feeling pretty good actually. Physically at least. Mentally, that’s a whole other can of worms.”

  
“I hear ya there,” he said brushing your hair out of your face, “Sam has hunkered down in the library, determined to find out anything he can about you.”

  
“Great, so I’m a research project.”

  
“Well, if the pocket protector fits.”

  
You playfully smacked his shoulder, “Shut up idjit. It’s great that he’s trying to help. I’m just . . . I’m gonna need a little time to process everything.”

  
A low grumble echoed through the room the same time that you felt an ache in your stomach. Dean laughed, “Guess someone is hungry.”

  
“I guess so. That’s what I get for sleeping almost twelve hours.”

  
He stood and grabbed your hand, “Come on nerd, we’ll get you something to eat and then, if you’re feeling up to it, I’m sure Sam has a million questions for you.”

  
You assisted Dean with cooking bacon cheeseburgers for lunch and afterwards, Sam basically kept you prisoner in the library for the rest of the day. Now that he was apparently completely relaxed at knowing you weren’t evil or something to be feared, his analytical mind was sent into overdrive. He asked about your childhood and if anything extraordinary or odd had happened to you, but unfortunately, you were relatively boring. He took down your statement about what it felt like when you turned and hesitantly asked you about the exact details of your sexual history. Dean had gotten a little upset about this, but Sam insisted it was purely for research for the Men of Letters’ archives.

  
The next few days were spent with Sam’s head buried in research while you and Dean moved on to bigger and better things. You started small, working on moving small things such as pencils and books around the library and tried to control when you flew and when you could think of a place without instinctively transporting there. Sam and Dean even agreed to let you practice on them, and you had a blast making them dance around the bunker while they were your puppets. You were even able to conjure up a couple of fake credit cards with unlimited funds, which made you feel financially independent and as if you were no longer a burden to the boys. 

  
Castiel had been radio silent since the night he finally explained what you were. He said he was off looking for Kelly, but you had a suspicion that this was the time he was off in heaven, looking for their support to try and help him locate Lucifer’s son. Even though you, theoretically, could now kill Jack and Kelly, you didn’t put it past Cas to have a plan B. 

  
It had been about a week since you came into your powers and you had decided that you had enough training for the day. You had been sparring with Sam in the training room, working on quickly flying to avoid his attacks and trying to fling him or control his movements with your mind. Dean had a turn here and there, but it was hard to focus on the task at hand whenever he gave you a little wink, licked his lips or opted to take his shirt off to try and distract you. Sam had headed off to take a shower while you opted to use your powers to clean up. 

  
You sauntered through the bunker in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt to see what Dean was up to, eventually finding him glued to his computer screen in the library, filing through police reports and surveillance footage in search of Kelly or Dagon. You walked up behind him and bent down to wrap your arms around him, lowering your head so you were cheek to cheek. You inhaled his heady scent and allowed your hands lazily caressed up and down his chest, “Hey there.”

  
He sighed appreciatively, “Hey there, yourself. You and Sam all done for the day?”

  
“Looks that way. I’m beat. This has been one of the longest weeks of my entire life.”

  
“Well, you’re doing a fantastic job. And you look good doing it, if I say so myself,” he said turning his head to kiss your cheek. 

  
You stood up, ruffling his hair before sitting in the chair next to him, “Thanks, Dean, that means a lot.”

  
The two of you sat in comfortable silence as he returned to his research and you let your mind wander, thinking about the future. You knew the day was approaching that you would have to confess just how much you knew about Lucifer’s son and you were constantly working on mentally writing your speech to explain why you had kept Jack a secret. You just didn’t want Sam or Dean to look at you differently once they knew, but you had a feeling that there was no escaping that. 

  
Eventually, Dean spoke up, “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we try take the night off from everything. I think we could all use a break.”

  
“Really?”

  
“Sure. Sam and I have feelers out for Kelly and Dagon, I can’t find anything else and I’m sure you could use some time off. Maybe Sam and I can run into town, grab some dinner and then we have a few drinks and play poker. What do ya say?”

  
“Yeah, that’d be great.”

He placed his hand on your upper thigh and squeezed gently. His touch caught you off guard and made you slightly light headed. He gave you a devilish smile, “Then maybe we can find another way to relax?”

  
You smiled coyly at him, “Oh, like how you helped me relax this morning, before we even got out of bed?”

  
He tilted his head to the side, “If I remember correctly, you’re the one that woke me up with your hand stroking me.”

  
You feigned innocence, “Me? Would I do that?”

  
He started to lean in closer to you, “Hell yeah you would.”

  
You bit your lip and nodded your head as you closed the gap between you, “Yeah, yeah I would.”

  
You pressed your lips roughly onto his in a needy kiss. His tongue flicked at your lower lip and you opened up to let him entwine himself with you. His stubble tickled your cheek, but you didn’t dare break contact. His kiss always managed to stop time around you, so only God knows how long you sat there, letting him plunder your mouth once more with his skillful ministrations, occasionally turning your head side to side to change positions or come up for breath. 

  
You stroked his cheek with the back of your hand, “Well, I think I’m already starting to feel a little bit relaxed.”

  
“Well good, ‘cause I’m just getting started,” he said as he stood from his chair. At that moment, Sam came traipsing in and Dean ran his plans for the evening by him. Sam was up for a night off and you offered to whip up a chocolate pie while the boys were gone, which Dean enthusiastically thanked you for. Once the boys had left, you headed to the kitchen and popped open a wine cooler to sip on while you worked on baking dessert for the evening. You had just slipped the pie in the oven when you heard the bunker door open. 

  
You headed out into the war room, “That was freakishly quick. What are you all doing back so soon?”

  
However, it wasn’t Sam and Dean that had returned to the bunker. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
You and Sam were in the Impala, heading back to the bunker with several pizzas and some provisions from the liquor store. Led Zeppelin was playing quietly in the background and you couldn’t help but to feel slightly optimistic about the future, “Man, I tell you what, her being able to magically conjure up those credit cards is going make life a lot easier for us.”

  
“Yeah,” Sam replied, nodding in agreement. 

  
“I mean, no more hustling, no more scams, what am I suppose to do with all that free time?”

  
“I’m sure you’ll find something to fill the time with.”

  
“Or _someone_,” you chuckled. 

  
Sam rolled his eyes and before he could say anything else, his tablet that was resting in between the two of you started ringing and the name “_Eileen Leahy_” appeared on the screen. Sam picked up the tablet a little faster than normal and accepted the video chat. 

  
“Hey Eileen, I’m here with Dean. How are you doing?” he asked with a huge grin. 

  
“Hi Sam,” she replied with a matching smile. 

  
“What’s up?”

  
“Well, I wanted to call and give you an update on Kelly Kline.”

  
You were trying to pay attention to the road, but as soon as you heard Kelly’s name, you focused in on the conversation. Your eyes flicked quickly back and forth between Sam and Eileen on the tablet, “Did you fill her in on the details?”

  
Sam nodded, “Yeah, she said she’d be willing to help track her down. So, uh, Eileen, after we talked, you went back to Coeur D’alene, Idaho?”

  
“Right,” she replied, “The last place anybody saw Kelly Kline go, so, I figured I’d take a look.”

  
“Hmm, and?”

  
“And turns out, right after she left, somebody burned down an old warehouse. I did some digging. Check your phone.”

  
Sam’s phone vibrated and he pulled up a text message with several pictures. You briefly glanced over at the shots as Sam continued to speak, “What are those security shots? Oh yeah. There’s Kelly going in.”

  
You congratulated her, “Wow. Nice work Eileen.”

  
“Thank you,” she replied while signing the phrase back to you. 

  
You patted Sam on the arm and pointed to the other female in the picture, “So, who’s the chick with her, the, uh, Pat Benatar wannabe?”

  
Sam shrugged his shoulders, “It must be Dagon, I guess.”

  
“Awesome. Okay so,” you said before tapping Sam again, indicating that he needed to turn the tablet towards you so you could speak to Eileen, “So, Kelly and Dagon go crash this place and then it gets torched. Coincidence?”

  
Sam scoffed, “No.”

  
Eileen mimicked Sam’s reaction, “Hell, no.”

  
“All right, well, what are we lookin’ at here?” you asked. 

  
“Working on it,” she answered. 

  
You nodded, “Well, go get ‘em Eileen.”

  
She smiled, “That’s the plan.”

  
You gave her a thumbs up and Sam turned the tablet back to him. Eileen grinned, “Bye Sam.”

  
Sam smiled like a kid on Christmas morning and waved, “Bye.”

  
  


Sam hung up the call and laid the tablet back in his lap, quickly becoming serious once more. You chuckled, “Aww Sammy, that’s cute.”

  
“Come on, it’s not like that.”

  
“Hey, I’m not judging. I think you two got a cute little thing going on there.”

  
“Whatever. Just drive.”

  
A few minutes later, you had arrived back home and Sam was pitching you a crazy idea. As you stepped through the bunker door, the heavenly aroma of a freshly baked chocolate pie wafted up the stairs. You inhaled deeply before making your way down the stairs, both arms full with bags of whiskey, vodka, beer and wine coolers for your girl. 

  
Sam was carrying the pizza and followed behind you, “I’m just saying Dean, even with Cas and every hunter we know working this, we still got basically nothing. At least you know, maybe Crowley . . .”

  
You cut him off, “No, dude, we’re not calling Crowley.” You placed the bags on the war room table and it was at that moment that you noticed (Y/N) sitting at a table in the library with Mick Davies across from her. He was in his usual suite and tie, sipping on a glass of dark liquor from a bottle in front of him whereas she was drinking one of her wine coolers. 

  
  


She tipped her drink in your direction, “Welcome home, boys.”

  
“Do come and have a drink,” Mick added, taking a swig from his crystal glass. 

  
You and Sam slowly made your way into the library, taking in the odd scene in front of you. Sam asked, “What are you doing here in our house?”

  
“_Our_ house,” Mick responded, “Men of Letters. Did you know your key opens every chapter house in the world? Well, you did say you’d continue to give me a chance to prove I’m not the bad guy.”

  
“That doesn’t mean we wanna hang out,” you said. 

  
She gave you a bitchface as if she was mentally telling you to play nice, before standing up and pouring you and Sam a drink. Meanwhile, Sam asked, “You here for a reason?”

  
She handed Sam his glass and then yours, giving you a quick kiss before taking her seat back at the table. You and Sam opted to lean agains the table beside them, facing their direction. Mick sat his glass down on the table and leaned forward, “I am, and it’s a bit urgent. Some time ago, the home office recorded some sort of cosmic shock wave. Very rare. After a few months of . . .”

  
Sam interrupted Mick, “Nephilim.”

  
Mick looked between the three of you, stunned, “You knew?”

  
You took a swig of your drink, “Yeah we knew.”

  
“How?” Mick asked. 

  
“It’s sort of a long story,” Sam answered. 

  
Mick scoffed, “Well I’ve got time.”

  
“Well, Lucifer jacked the President and then knocked up his girlfriend,” you replied. 

  
“And now, she is on the run with Dagon, who is a prince of hell,” Sam added. 

  
Mick nodded, “I see. And you didn’t tell me this because?”

  
You shrugged, “‘Cause it’s kind of a need to know kind of thing.”

  
She apologized, “Sorry, Mick.”

  
Mick stood up, pacing around the table, “The devil is having a . . . child. It seems like something we’d need to know. Where is this woman now?”

  
“Not sure,” Sam said, “We tried to help her but . . .”

  
“But she managed to get the jump on me and got away,” she added regretfully. 

  
Mick did a double take, “I’m sorry. You, you had her? And you let her live?”

  
You were starting to get defensive, “Look, it’s not Kelly’s fault, okay? She didn’t know Lucifer was her boyfriend. 

  
“Oh sure, yeah, it could happen to anyone,” Mick responded sarcastically. 

  
“Plus,” Sam commented with a heavy sigh, “She’d agreed to end the pregnancy. And I guess she changed her mind. Even with everything Kelly knew, she couldn’t. It was still her kid.”

  
Mick yelled, “Then you should have! _You_ should’ve shot her between the eyes immediately!”

You asked, “Oh, why? ‘Cause that’s what you would’ve done? You’re the one that’s so big on second chances and all.”

  
Mick sighed heavily, “I’m not saying it was going to be easy, but the Code demands it.”

  
You rolled your eyes before taking another drink, “Oh, ‘The Code’.”

  
Mick was pacing around, waving his hands in the air, exasperated, “This is not some werewolf. Do . . . Do you have any idea what will happen if this abomination is born?”

  
She spoke up tentatively, “Guys, are we absolutely sure that her child is going to be evil? I mean, it’s not all Lucifer. The kid will be half Kelly too and she seems like a really good person. What if he’s not not evil? What if he’s like his mother and can actually end up being an asset to us?”

  
“What? You can’t be serious,” you said. 

  
She replied, “It’s just a thought. Not everyone grows up to be like their parents.”

  
You shook your head, “It’s _Lucifer’s_ son. There’s only one path that kid is going down and it’s paved in fire and brimstone.”

  
Sam sat his glass down on the table and stood up, “Look, Mick, we’re handling it, all right? We’ll find her.”

  
“Well, that’s not the only thing I came to talk about. I have a few other items on my agenda,” Mick started to explain, “Firstly, about a week ago, the home office recorded another huge cosmic shock wave. Even bigger than the nephilim. Bigger than anything we’ve ever recorded. You guys wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  
Your eyes briefly flickered to your girl and you saw her shifting nervously around in her seat, “Nope, we don’t know what that one was about.”

  
“You’re positive about that?” Mick asked skeptically. 

  
“Sorry Mick, only one Earth shattering crisis for us at a time,” Sam added. 

  
She slowly stood up from her chair, finishing her drink, “Look boys, I don’t care to continue this lovely discussion, but I am starving. Mick, we’re planning to have some pizza and drinks tonight. Would you like to join us?”

  
Mick took off his coat and draped it over the back of his chair, “That’d be lovely, because we are definitely not done talking.”

  
She walked by you and gently grabbed your hand, pulling you with her, “I know, I know Mick. We’ll get some plates and more drinks and be back in a jiffy.”

  
You held her hand and followed her up the library steps and into the kitchen. As soon as she was satisfied that you were out of earshot, she said, “Dean, we need to talk.”

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“Dean, we need to talk,” you said peeking over his shoulder to make sure Mick had not followed you. 

  
“Yeah, like why the hell did you let Mick in?”

  
“He came in by himself! He has a key, remember? What was I suppose to do, kick him out?”

  
“Uh, yeah.”

  
“Dean . . .”

  
“(Y/N),” he said pulling you into him, “This was supposed to be a relaxing night. Just you, me and Sammy. Then just you and me,” he said wiggling his eyebrows. 

  
That playful little look always caused your heart to skip a beat and sent your mind straight to the gutter with hedonistic thoughts. You stroked his cheek with the back of your hand, “I know, but maybe it’s a good thing he’s here. It’ll give you chance to know him. Maybe he’ll grow on you.”

  
Dean scoffed, “Yeah, like a tumor.”

  
You chuckled, “Plus, he was trying to get more information about me while you two were gone. I think it’s time we told him about where I’m from.”

  
“No. No way in hell are those douchebags gonna know just how special my girl is. Especially that she’s the reason for that other cosmic wave. At least, I’m guessing that was you.”

  
“I guess so. Who knows? At least I hope it was me. Can you imagine something else that powerful that wasn’t on our side?”

  
“Yes, yes I can. That’s why I’m glad we got you,” he said, rubbing your shoulders. 

  
You closed your eyes, “I hope that’s not the only reason.”

  
“Oh definitely not, you’re a good cook too.”

You opened your eyes and saw he was giving you a teasing smile. You started to swat at his chest, but he grabbed your wrist and crashed his lips onto yours. Turning his head to the side, he kissed you lazily, allowing you to enjoy the taste of his lips and the after flavor of the whiskey that Mick had brought as a gift. He pulled you in closer, cupping your ass with both hands as you mimicked his actions. His virile masculinity was on full display as he backed you up against the kitchen wall, pinning you in place. Your mouth dropped open, panting, as he moved his lips down, laying a path of kisses from your chin, down your neck until he reached the center of your chest. 

  
“Need any help in there?” Sam called out just outside of the kitchen. 

  
Dean groaned, “No Sam, we got this.”

  
You grabbed his face with your hands, “As much as I’d love to break in the kitchen again, why don’t we go play with our friends and then we can play together later.”

  
He pressed his face in between your breasts. His reply was muffled, “Mick’s not my friend. I’d rather just play with you.”

  
You giggled uncontrollably, “Dean, come on. I promise, it’ll be worth it. Plus, I know you have to be hungry too.”

  
He lifted his head up, “Sex, food. Sex, food. Decisions, decisions.”

  
“Food now, sex later?” you asked.

  
He stood up and grabbed your hand, shaking it overdramatically, “Deal.”

  
“Good. I’ll grab the plates and you grab some beer for everyone. Then we can tell Mick about my history before I got here. Plus, if we think he’s gonna spill the beans, I can try to wipe his memory or something.”

  
“Think you can swing that?” he asked. 

  
“I don’t see why not.”

  
A few minutes later, you all were gathered round the map table in the war room with drinks and plates of pizza. Mick was already finishing his third drink and you laughed to herself as you watched Dean try and keep up with him. Before taking a bite of pizza, Mick asked, “So, (Y/N), it’s been a month. You promised to give me answers about you.”

  
Sam looked between you and Dean nervously, trying to gauge your reaction. You inhaled deeply, “Yes, yes I did.”

  
“So?” Mick asked, “What’s your deal? Why haven’t we been able to find anything about you?”

  
You glanced at Dean and saw him give you a quick nod in reassurance before you spoke, “Mick, if I tell you where I’m from, you can’t tell anyone.”

  
“Hey, I thought we were all becoming friends. Colleagues,” Mick responded. 

  
Dean scoffed and you replied while pointing back and forth between him and yourself, “_We_ are. But the rest of them, I’m sorry, I still don’t trust them. So, what’s said here, stays here. Agree?”

  
“Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like what I hear?” he asked. 

  
“Just answer the damn question,” Dean commanded, “You in or you out?”

  
Mick took a swig of his drink, contemplating the situation while everyone else sat quietly, waiting for him to make a decision. Finally he nodded, “Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice. Fine, I’ll keep what I know to myself, for now.”

  
“Ok,” you said, stalling for time in how to explain who you were and mentally arguing with yourself about how much to tell him, “So Mick, tell me . . . exactly how much do you know about alternate realities?”

  
He sat forward, narrowing his eyes, “We’ve studied them and know that they exist, but we’re still working on figuring out how to open a portal to them. What do you know about them?”

  
You took a shot of vodka, trying to gather a little liquid courage, “A lot actually, seeing as I’m from one.”

  
Mick stuttered, “Excuse me? You, uh, you’re, you’re what?”

  
“That’s right. I was not born in this world. I grew up in a very similar reality, except I don’t think monsters and all of the supernatural stuff was real there, as far as I knew. I went to bed one morning after finishing my shift as an E.R. nurse and I woke up here in the bunker.”

  
“You just appeared here, with no explanation at all?”

  
“Nope, no idea why I’m here,” you answered before Sam or Dean could bring up the letter from Amara. They caught on to the fact that you wanted to keep that secret and quickly nodded along, confirming your story. 

  
“We were coming back from a hunt . . .” Sam started to explain, but was cut off by Dean. 

  
Dean pointed to his chest, “I killed Hitler.”

  
You giggled and Sam rolled his eyes, “Yes Dean, we’re all still very proud of that.”

  
“Wai-wait a minute. You killed Hitler?” Mick asked. 

  
Dean held his head high with pride, “Yeah, I did. You’re welcome.”

Sam started speaking again, “Anyway, we just got back when we found her in the library.”

  
You remembered just how terrified you were that first day in the bunker, “And let’s just say, they weren’t the most welcoming hosts to their new houseguest.”

  
Dean grabbed your hand under the table and rubbed his thumb across your palm, “Yeah, we kinda put her through the ringer. Tied her up and tested her with holy water, silver, borax . . . the works. But she didn’t react to anything.”

  
“How did you mange to convince these two to let you stay or to believe your story?” Mick queried. 

  
Sam chuckled, “Well that one there,” he said nodding in Dean’s direction, “Was a lost cause from the moment he laid eyes on her.”

  
You blushed and Dean scoffed, “Shut up. No I wasn’t.”

  
“Yeah, you kinda were, Dean,” Sam countered, “As for me, it took me a little longer, but she, uh, happened to know a lot about our history.”

  
“Really?” Mick asked, “Oh wait, you did say you were psychic. Is that true or . . . ?”

  
“Kind of,” you answered, “You see Mick, in my original reality, these two numbskulls were actually the stars of a television series called ‘_Supernatural_’ that I happened to be a teeny, tiny bit obsessed with.”

  
Dean whispered, “Nerd.”

  
You whipped your head around to look at him, “Hey, it paid off. The show pretty much covered everything that’s happened to them throughout their lives, so I was able to convince them that my story was true and thankfully, they believed me. Especially when stuff I knew started coming true.”

  
“Hold on, so you know what’s going to happen? How far into the future did you see?” Mick asked. 

  
“A few years, I suppose. But not everything has been the same. For example, I didn’t know anything about Lucifer having a child,” you lied. 

  
“Well, that’s inconvenient,” Mick replied. 

  
“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Dean added. 

  
“What about the us? The British Men of Letters?” Mick questioned. 

  
“What about you?” you asked, finally relaxing in your chair a little bit now that Mick knew the partial truth about you and hadn’t gone running to call the looney bin to drag you away and strap you up in a straight jacket.

  
“What do you know about our history? About us in general?”

  
“A lot. I know that you’re the only decent man they have in their ranks and I know that you’re the only one I can trust with this information. At least, I’m hoping you’re still the same man that I saw in my show.”

  
“Mick,” Sam said, “You seem awfully calm about this. Why are you not freaking out?”

  
“When you’re in our line of work, not much surprises you,” Mick explained, “But, wait, how does that explain the werewolf incidence? How did you heal that girl, (Y/N).”

  
Dean spoke up trying to change the topic of conversation, “We’re still working on figuring out that part. But until then, I say we do what we gathered around this table to do. Drink.”

  
Dean poured himself another drink and you another shot and the four of your held your glasses up in a toast. Mick stared at you in curiosity, but decided he had interrogated you enough for one day. The rest of the night was spent with you and the boys drowning in liquor and getting to know one another while playing cards. The more Dean drank, the happier and flirtier he got. He was constantly brushing your hair to the side, rubbing your knee under the table or giving you suggestive side glances. The sexual attraction between the two of you was a palpable force that distracted you, making it hard to focus on the poker game. 

  
Sam went to bed around midnight, but you, Mick and Dean stayed up until after three in the morning before calling it quits. Mick seemed to have held his own, but Dean was trashed. You let Mick know he was welcome to stay in any of the unoccupied rooms before Dean swept you off your feet, into his arms and carried you to his room. 

  
You opened the door for him and he kicked it shut before dropping your feet to the floor and turning you around to pin you against his door. His lips furiously assaulted your neck, “I hope you’re ready for this.”

  
You ran your hands up the back of his shirt, fingers grazing his warm skin as his muscles flexed underneath your touch, “Dean, I think you’re too drunk for anything tonight.”

  
He looked up at you, insulted, slurring his words, “I’s ams not. I just right in that sweet spot. Soon ‘nough, I’ll be in your sweet spot.” He ran his hand down and cupped you through your jeans, running a finger back and forth along your denim covered pussy. You licked your hips at the minuscule touch, trying not to get too worked up, because you just knew he wouldn’t be able to finish what he was starting. 

  
You grabbed his face and pulled him up for a sloppy kiss, “Dean, I tell you what. If you can lay down in bed and stay awake until I change clothes, then I’ll do whatever you want.”

  
He was struggling to keep his eyes open, “Really? S-s-sure about that?”

  
You nodded your head and he stumbled back a few feet, pulling off his shirt as he went, “Oh babe, you are gonna regret that.”

  
He swayed as he walked the few feet from the door to his bed, flopping down onto his back to watch you change. You went over to the dresser and pulled out pajama pants and a tank top. You kept your back turned to Dean and in just a minute or two, you had changed your clothes. You turned around and sure enough, he was passed out on his bed. 

“Told you so,” you uttered, rolling your eyes before covering him up with the blanket he had purchased for you during your hospital stay. You grabbed your camera off his desk and took a few candid shots of him sleeping. You were jealous that this hunk of a man could never take a bad picture and you wanted to make sure to capture his image any chance you could, especially when he looked so serene. After your mini photo shoot, you crawled in underneath the covers beside him. You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before tucking yourself into the crook of his arms and drifting off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now Mick knows a little bit about you and it seems as if the Winchesters are getting closer and closer to Dagon. How much longer can you keep your secret? Until next time . . . 😘 🤗


	39. The Other Shoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eileen shows up with information about where and when to find Kelly and Dagon, making things very messy for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are, hitting the 200K word mark. I can’t friggin’ believe it!!! I’m terrribly sorry for the longer pause in between updates! Work was very busy last week, but I’m back!! Thanks to everyone that continues to read and I hope you can forgive my delay!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
The next morning, you awoke after a peaceful night’s sleep to find that Dean was curled up on his side away from you. He was still passed out in a drunken stupor and you noticed a little pool of drool had puddled on the covers below his mouth. You decided to test out your powers and gingerly placed two fingers on his forehead. You could taste the whiskey that his liver was soaking in and just knew he would wake up with a raging hangover. You focused your energy on clearing his system of alcohol, and soon he was as sober as a judge. 

  
You left him sleeping and changed into a pair of jeans and one of his blue and green stripped flannels. You grabbed your headphones and headed down to the kitchen to fix brunch for everyone to pile onto their empty stomachs. However, you were surprised when the heavenly aroma of coffee greeted you as you entered the kitchen. Sam was already sitting at the table, reading the paper and drinking from one of the ceramic red tipped coffee cups. 

  
He smirked, “Well, congratulations, you’re the first sign of life I’ve seen this morning.”

  
You bowed dramatically, “Thank you, thank you. So what’s my prize?”

  
He pointed to the coffeemaker, “That’s the last pot of coffee, so you better grab you some while you can.”

  
You snapped your fingers and a new bag of coffee appeared on the table, “Sam, did you forget who you’re talking to?”

  
He chuckled, “Yeah, I guess I did. So how is it you’re up and not a zombie?”

  
“I quit drinking shortly after you left, but stayed up to watch the show. Dean on the other hand,” you exhaled sharply, widening your eyes, “he was pretty trashed. I think I was able to stave off his hangover though by clearing his system of alcohol, so hopefully he won’t feel too crappy when he wakes up.”

  
“You can do that?”

  
“I gave it a shot and it worked. So, no more hangovers for us!”

  
Sam nodded appreciatively, “Cool.”

  
“Yeah, not too shabby if you ask me,” you said making your way over to the fridge to decide what you wanted to cook for everyone. Even though you could’ve just snapped your fingers and laid out a buffet, you still enjoyed the task of cooking and creating something with your own two hands. 

  
You pulled out ingredients for waffles and decided to fry up some bacon and throw some frozen hot wings into the oven, to add a little spice and variety to the meal. You caught Sam glancing at you in your peripheral vision as if he wanted to say something. After you had the waffle batter mixed and the wings in the oven, you couldn’t take him ogling at you any longer. 

  
“What is it Sam?”

  
He almost spit out his coffee as he stammered, “What, uh, uh what?”

  
“You keep staring at me like you want to say something. What is it?” you asked as you loaded up the waffle maker with batter. 

  
“I, um . . . I was just hoping to clear the air with you.”

  
You were scared and dumbfounded simultaneously, “Oh yeah? About what?”

  
“About me and you. About how I was doubtful of you for a very long time and not one hundred percent trusting of your motives.”

  
You heaved a sigh of relief, “Sheesh, Sam, is that all?”

  
“Yeah, I don’t want things to be tense or awkward between us.”

  
You took the waffle out of the skillet and poured another load of batter in while flipping the bacon, “Sam, Sam, Sam. Really, it’s no trouble. I know about your past and understand how hard it is for you and Dean to believe people. When I showed up, I knew it would be an uphill battle to earn your trust and respect, but, I knew it’d be worth it. So, I swear, we’re good.”

  
Sam stood up and walked over to lean against the counter beside you, “Really?”

  
“Yes doofus, really.”

  
He inhaled deeply and looked like as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, “Good, because, you know (Y/N), you’re family now. I promise to try and not doubt you ever again.”

  
  


  
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Sam,” you said, thinking about Jack and your eventual earth shattering confession. 

  
“I don’t make promises lightly, kiddo.”

  
You turned your head and stared into his hazel eyes. Sam was being as open and vulnerable with you as he had ever been. He gave you a small smile and you fought back tears as you realized that he really did see you as part of his family now and not just because you were his brother’s soulmate, but because you were like a sister to him. 

  
You sat down your spatula, “Okay, I’m hugging you now,” you warned him before wrapping your arms tightly around his middle. 

  
Sam chuckled, and circled his long arms around you, completely engulfing you in his embrace. He gave you a platonic kiss on top of your head and gave you one more reassuring squeeze before you pulled back and looked up into his puppy dog eyes, “You’re okay for a sasquatch, Sam.”

  
He ruffled your hair, “And I guess you’re okay for a nerd, (Y/N).”

  
You patted him on the chest and returned to cooking breakfast, “Okay, chick flick moment over.”

  
“Right,” Sam said in agreement, “Well, I think I’m gonna go for a quick jog before breakfast. Lunch? Which is it?”

  
“Brunch. I figure I might as well combine both meals.”

  
“Sounds good. See ya soon.”

  
“See ya Samuel!” you called out as he exited the kitchen. 

  
“It’s Sam!” he yelled back just before you heard him clanking up the metal stairs and leave through the bunker’s hatch. 

  
Since no one was up, you decided to go ahead and throw together some scramble eggs while Meghan Trainor’s “_No Excuses_” blared through your headphones. You were bopping along, lip syncing and plating up all the food. You turned around and started to carry everything over to the table, when you caught someone out of the corner of your eye. You almost jumped, but you quickly realized that it was Dean leaning up against the door jamb. He had opted to change into his “_I Killed Hitler_” shirt and was standing there, arms crossed, smiling softly as he watched you cook. 

  
You sat the last plate down on the table and pulled off your headphones, “Howdy there, partner. How you feeling this morning?”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
She was absolutely fucking hypnotizing as she danced around the kitchen cooking yet another scrumptious meal for you and your brother. If you didn’t know her, you’d swear on your soul that she was a siren. The sway of her hips, the way her hair bounced as she nodded along to her music, hell, even the way she hummed, it all drew you in and urged you to get closer to her, even if it meant running your ship aground on a pile of rocks. 

  
She jumped slightly when she noticed you watching her, but that didn’t stop from the task at hand. Eventually, she pulled her headphones off and smiled at you, “Howdy here, partner. How you feeling this morning.”

  
You shoved off the wall and ambled towards her, “Well, little lady, I’m actually not feeling too bad. Which is surprising considering . . .”

  
“Considering you drank a liquor store last night?”

  
You continued to walk towards her, backing her up until she was pinned between you and the kitchen island, your arms caging her in, “Yeah. I gotta hand it to Mick. Man, you get him started, that guy can drink. I mean, I can drink, but he’s got like the “can drink” gold medal.”

  
She ran a hand up and down your arm, “So, no hangover? No nausea or light sensitivity?”

  
“Nope, I’m good and raring to go.”

  
“Good then it worked.”

  
“What worked?” you asked suspiciously. 

  
“Well, I had a sneaking suspicion that you would feel like shit when you woke up this morning. So, I tried to see if I could clear your body of the alcohol and prevent you from dealing with the worst hangover of your life.”

  
“Well, consider me detoxed. You’re gonna save my liver a lot of work.”

  
She wrapped her hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss, “Good, because it needs a rest.”

  
You pushed and pulled your mouth against hers several times, before your stomach grumbled in protest. She broke away, laughing, “I knew you’d be hungry. Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving!”

  
She poured you a cup of coffee and took a seat beside you at the table. A few minutes after you started eating, Sam joined you, looking like he had just gotten out of the shower. 

  
“Food’s ready, Sam,” she announced. 

  
“Cool, thanks again for cooking, (Y/N),” he replied as he sat at the table and fixed himself a plate. He took a bite of eggs and asked, “So, have either of you talked to Mom lately?”

  
She looked like she was about to answer, when Mick came strolling in from the other entrance, “Oh, shouldn’t worry about your mum. Her and Ketch make quite the team.”

  
You watched as he rummaged around in the cupboard for a glass and then proceeded to retrieve a glass jug of vegetable juice from the refrigerator, “Would you want your mom working with him?”

  


  
Mick began to pour the red liquid into his cup, “Well, I can’t say. (Y/N) already knows the story, but I, uh, never knew my parents. I was on the streets until the Men of Letters found me.”

  
Sam poured a smidge of syrup onto his waffle, “How did they find you?”

  
The Brit chuckled, “I, uh, picked a member’s pocket. Not on purpose. I was just after a couple of quid.”

  
“And you got a cursed ancient Babylonian coin instead,” she said matter-of-factly. 

  
Mick nodded his head, “Exactly.”

  
“Oh, sure, could happen to anyone I suppose,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. 

  
Mick ignored your tone, “The Men of Letters decided I showed promise and signed me up.” He gazed out in front of him, as if he was remembering the details of that exact day, “They gave me a life.”

  
She spoke softly from your side, “They’ve been the only family that you’ve ever known.”

  
Mick exhaled sharply, “Yeah, exactly. So, got any vodka?”

  
Even though she had taken care of your hangover, the thought of drinking sent your stomach into somersaults. You gave him a disgusted look and she chuckled, “There might be some left on the cart in the library, Mick. Do you have time to eat before you go?”

  
Mick grabbed his glass and headed towards the library, “That’d be lovely, (Y/N). Thank you. Be right back.”

  
An hour later, Mick had left, but not before you had a chance to tell him the full story of how you killed Hitler. Sam groaned, as you retold the story for the umpteenth time while your girl hung on every word, as if it was the first time she had heard it. You and her were finishing up the dishes when Sam got a text message, “Hey, check this out. Eileen says she has some information on Dagon and wants to know if she can stop by later to give us the details.”

  
“Eileen? Eileen Leahy?” your girl asked. 

  
“Yeah, Sammy and I reached out to some other hunters and it appears as if she found a lead on Kelly,” you answered. 

  
She smiled wistfully, “Aww, I love Eileen. She’s a really cool person, isn’t she Sam?”

  
Sam stammered, “Uh, uh, yeah, I guess so.”

  
She winked at you, “Come on Sam, you don’t have to hide your feelings around me. I know all about Eileen.”

  
Sam huffed and shook his head, “I hate that you know so much about us sometimes.”

  
“How far out is she?” you asked, taking a sip of your third cup of coffee. 

  
Sam typed away on his phone shortly answered, “She says she could be in here in about five hours.”

  
You finished drying the last plate and tossed the dish towel onto the counter before grabbing your girl’s hand, “Good.”

  
She was stunned when you started pulling her out of the kitchen, without another word to Sam. You marched determinedly through the bunker until you reached your room. You led her in, slamming the door shut before gripping her by her hips and guiding her towards the bed. She didn’t have time to react before you forced her down onto the bed. She laid there, mouth agape to take in quick, shallow breaths, eyeing you with curiosity. 

  
She licked her lips, “And what do you think you’re doing?”

  
You reached behind you and pulled your shirt off, “I’m finishing what I started last night.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
His raspy voice was full of need, “I’m finishing what I started last night.”

  
As his words registered in your mind, you felt heat start to pool in your center. He licked his lips, his eyes never breaking contact as he crawled over top of you to straddle your hips. His bare chest now within reaching distance, you couldn’t stop yourself from running your hands up his torso to appreciate how virile and strong he felt under your touch as his muscles flexed. He grasped either side of the flannel you were wearing and forcefully ripped your shirt open, sending buttons flying across his room. You gasped at his primal aggression and patted yourself on the back as his breath hitched in his throat when he noticed you had chosen not to wear a bra that morning. 

  
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he said in awe before lowering himself down to nip and suck on your left breast. His wet tongue lapped at the sensitive flesh, bringing it to a peak before turning his attention to your other breast. You threw your head back, panting with want as he worshipped your body with his gorgeous, plump, pink lips. You ran your hands through his hair and moaned as he slowly started to grind his stiffening cock on your inner thigh. Despite still wearing his jeans from last night, you could feel every inch of him rubbing against you, heightening your arousal. 

  
Once he had tasted your breasts, he sat up and scooted back to undo your jeans. He stood at the edge of the bed and deftly rid you of your jeans and underwear in one fell swoop. You took the opportunity to slip your arms out of your top and tossed it to the floor. He licked his lips and lowered himself until his mouth was hovering at your entrance. He flattened his tongue and licked a thick stripe up your pussy, stopping to suck at that sweet sensitive bundle of nerves, causing you to shamelessly call out his name in bliss. 

  
You looked down, unable to pull your eyes away from his as he smiled devilishly and said, “Yep, there’s the sweet spot I was looking for last night.”

  
Before your mind could conjure up a witty retort, he inserted two thick digits inside of you and started to pump in and out of you at a tortuously slow pace. The sight of him licking and nipping at your clit while his skillful fingers plunged leisurely in and out, in and out of you was fucking intoxicating. You finally threw your head back, closing your eyes and focused on the pleasure this sexy son of a bitch dared to bestow upon your body. 

  
He inserted a third finger and kissed your inner thigh, “(Y/N), a lot of men missed out, because you are so goddamn gorgeous. The way you move beneath me, those little sounds you make . . . fuck.”

  
You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan, “Really, Dean?”

  
“Fuck, yes,” he replied, his hot breath ghosting across you for a brief moment before he lowered his mouth and began to flick and nip at your clit once more. 

  
You clawed at the bedsheets underneath you, fisting them into a death grip as you felt that familiar tightening in your core. Your muscles began to tense and you tried to close your legs around Dean’s head as your orgasm raced towards its climax. However, Dean used one shoulder and his free hand to spread your thighs further apart. You felt him crook his fingers up inside of you and with a few more licks of his thick tongue, a powerful orgasm flooded your body. You arched your back and rocked your hips, shoving yourself further onto Dean’s face as your body searched for more friction to help you extend your orgasm. Finally, you relaxed and collapsed on the bed, eyes closed, blissed out in utter euphoria. 

  
You chuckled, “Yep, that was definitely the sweet spot, Dean.”

  
You heard him shuffling around and somewhere in the back of your mind, it registered that he was unzipping his jeans and ridding himself of the rest of his clothes. The bed dipped and you felt him line himself up at your entrance. You opened your eyes and stared into his impossibly green irises. 

  
“_Seriously, how are his eyes that gorgeous?_”

  
You rubbed his cheek, “I could stare into your eyes for hours, Dean. They’re fucking mesmerizing.”

  
He leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose, “Hey, yours are pretty gorgeous too, if I do say so myself.”

  
You moved your head and captured his lips with yours, sliding your tongue into his mouth to taste his unique, heady flavor. As your tongues danced, battling for dominance, he slipped his cock past your folds and slowly sank into you. You broke contact with his mouth to bury your head in his chest, gripping his biceps. Even though you had slept together several more times since that first night, his dick was so thick and long, that you weren’t sure if you would ever get used to his girth. 

  
He bottomed out and kissed your neck, “You okay there, sweetheart.”

  
You took a few seconds to adjust to his size before squeezing him with your vaginal muscles, ripping a guttural moan from his lips. You kissed his shoulder, “Oh yeah, I’m good.”

  
Now that he knew he wasn’t hurting you, he quickly pulled out and slammed back into you, setting an unrelenting pace. You held on to him and let your legs fall to the side. You looked up at him and saw that his face was tensed in concentration. For a brief moment, you wondered just how he would look underneath of you, releasing all control to you and at your mercy. Suddenly, your fantasy became reality and you found yourself on top of Dean, his dick still buried inside of you and your hands on his chest to support yourself. The sudden change in position meant that he was hitting a new spot and it almost caused you to come for a second time that night. 

  
Dean shook his head a couple of times, obvious gathering his bearings, “What the hell? What was that?” 

  
You steadied yourself, “I, I think it was me. I was just thinking about how you would look beneath me and then . . . you were.”

  
He rand his hands up your soft abdomen until he was chipping your breasts, using his thumbs to trace circles around your nipples. You pressed yourself into his palms and rocked your hips back and forth a few times. He released your breasts to move his hands down to your hips, “Well, you wanted on top, go for it, (Y/N).”

  
You slowly lifted yourself off of him before slamming forcefully down onto his throbbing, hard cock. He closed his eyes and threw his head back in pleasure, but his hands held your hips in a vice that would surely leave bruises the next day, “Fuck, (Y/N), I should let you do this more often.”

  
  


  
You leaned down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling yourself chest to chest with him as you continued to move yourself on top of him. You inhaled deeply, taking in his masculine scent, that mix of gunpowder and whiskey that you swore would always turn you on. You felt him push against you, so you moved to sit back on your knees. He sat up as well, staying connected with you as he moved. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he circled his arms around your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him as the pressure inside your core started to build once more. You never stopped rocking your hips back and forth as he nuzzled your neck, whispering dirty praises into your ear. 

  
His mouth found that delicate spot on your neck and before you knew it, your second orgasm of the night was barreling through you. You gasped and managed to rock your hips a few more times back and forth before your internal muscles clamped down onto Dean’s cock. You threw your head back, panting as little aftershocks quaked through your body. Once your breathing steadied, you had an embarrassing realization. 

  
You lifted your head up and saw that Dean was still holding you close to him as he had a front row seat while an orgasm tore through you. You could feel that he was still hard inside of you, “Oh, shit. Dean, I’m, I’m so sorry.”

  
He grinned and held a finger up to your lips, “Don’t apologize. That was better than watching ‘_Busty Asian Beauties_’.” 

  
You blushed and he gave you a quick kiss before flipping you back onto your back, “Plus, it means that I get to be on top now.”

  
He lifted one of your legs above his shoulder and started to pump into you once more. You dropped your hands to the sides, lethargic and unsure if you could come again so quickly. You could see he was holding out, trying to give you one more little death before he found his own release. You somehow gathered the strength to reach down and play with your clit, trying to speed up the process for yourself. 

  
He grunted and spoke through gritted teeth, “Son of a bitch, that’s downright fucking erotic, watching you play with yourself. Come on babe, you can do it. Come for me!”

  
Dean jerked his hips, hitting you in different position that sent you spiraling over the edge for a third time. He finally let go and came, burying himself inside of you as thick, hot ropes of his cum coated your insides. He finally collapsed and rolled to your side, breathing heavily. The two of you lay there, sated and spent. 

  
  


He kissed your shoulder, “Now that’s the playtime I missed last night.”

  
You breathed in deeply, still trying to catch your breath, “Hey, I’m not the one that drank too much and passed out on the other willing participant.” 

  
“Well, I think I more than made up for it.”

  
You languidly patted his side, “That you did, Dean. That you did.”

  
He reached for the blanket at the end of the bed and covered you up, snuggling into your side, “Well, rest up sweetheart. We have a few more hours to kill and I’m not leaving this room until I fuck you at least two more times.”

  
You smiled lazily, “Well, that’s fine by me Dean. Fine by me.”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
You kept good on your promise to your girl and by the time Eileen was an hour out from the bunker, you and her were completely exhausted. The two of you managed to take a shower together to wash yourselves off and she graciously opted to throw your sheets into the laundry. Once everything was cleaned from the afternoon’s activities, you grabbed a snack and joined Sam at the map table to await for Eileen’s arrival.

  
She was grabbing a couple of beers when Sam said, “Dude, I’m gonna need some sound proof headphones or something if you all keep at it like that.”

  
“Well, better get on that, because I have no intention on stopping.”

  
“I actually envy Eileen at this moment right now. She wont’ have to worry about hearing all of . . . _that_.”

  
She came out of the kitchen and passed around the drinks, “Tell you what, maybe I’ll work on putting up a soundproof barrier with my powers Sam, so we don’t scar you for life.”

  
“No way,” you protested, “I put in a lot of work for these pretty little noises.”

  
She giggled and Sam looked as if he was about to blow chunks, “Dude! Just no.”

  
You shrugged your shoulders, “It’s a beautiful, natural act, Sammy.”

  
She sat down in the seat beside you, “Don’t worry, Sam. Like I said, I’ll see what I can do.”

  
Sam popped open his bottle of beer, “At least one of you is being reasonable.”

  
With Eileen bringing forth new information, you realized you should try to reach out to Cas. You had already called and left him several messages, but you decided to try again. Of course, he didn’t answer, so you left him another voicemail. Even (Y/N) tried to reach him through angel radio, but she said there was no answer. 

  
Soon after that, Eileen arrived at the bunker. She gave Sam a big hug that lingered just a little too long before giving you a quicker embrace. When she reached your girl, you made quick introductions. Eileen only knew her as a hunter and a psychic. You had convinced Sam and (Y/N) that it was still a necessary measure to keep the details of her identity on a need to know basis. You went and grabbed Eileen a beer and resumed your position next to (Y/N) while Sam and Eileen sat next to each other across the table. 

  
“So you, you ran the plates of every car that drove past that warehouse in Idaho, just before it burned down?” Sam asked. 

  
Eileen nodded her head, “Yeah. Most of them were local, but one wasn’t. It came up registered to Dermott Culp.”

  
“So . .”

  
“So he went missing a year ago.”

  
“Okay . . .”

  
“I tracked his car to Iowa. Found him coming out of a building carrying a dead body.”

  
You asked, “So Dermott’s a killer?”

  
Eileen replied, “Dermott’s a demon.”

  
“One of Crowley’s?” Sam questioned. 

  
Eileen shook her head, “Works for Dagon. Covers her tracks.”

  
Sam nodded in appreciation, “Smart.”

  
You scoffed, “Dude, don’t compliment the bad guys.”

  
“Hey, you gotta admit, it is a pretty smart move,” (Y/N) said from your side. 

  
You waved your hands out in front of you, “Really?”

  
She gave you a side wink and Sam and Eileen chuckled at the two of you. 

  
Sam refocused on Eileen, “So, do you know where Kelly is now?”

  
Eileen sighed, “No, but before Dermott got stabbed in the heart . . .”

  
“Nice,” you said giving her a thumbs up.

  
Eileen beamed proudly back at you, “Mm-hmm. He gave me her phone number.” Eileen reached into her front pocket and pulled over a scrap of paper. She unfolded it and slid it across the table to Sam. 

  
Sam picked it up and looked at the number, “Yeah, nice,” he said before clinking his bottle with hers. 

  
Your girl held up her own bottle in their direction, “That’s awesome Eileen. We might have to dump Sam here and replace you as our official researcher.”

  
You pointed between Sam and (Y/N), “Yeah, you two nerds need to step up your game.”

  
Sam was able to use the GPS on the cellphone to track Kelly’s location and found that she and Dagon were still Idaho. Therefore, you all decided that it would be the best solution to try and get there before they could leave, lure Kelly back to to clinic alone and force her to speak with you, Sam, Mick and everyone else. Hopefully, you would be able to convince her to do the right thing and not go through with her pregnancy. You all decided to pack up and hit the road to try and get a head start on the drive, since Idaho was twenty hours away. You tried to call Cas one more time, but reached his voicemail again. Sam called Mick to fill him on the details and requested that he meet you in Idaho with the Colt, so that you could gank Dagon if she showed up. 

  
While you were throwing some clothes into your duffel and (Y/N) was doing the same, you asked her, “So, do you think you’re strong enough to take on Dagon. I mean, you’ve been able to do a lot of other pretty powerful stuff.”

  
She was obviously nervous, “I, uh, uh I don’t know Dean. I mean, she is a Prince of Hell.”

  
“Yeah, but if an archangel could take her down, then surely you could.”

  
“I guess . . .”

  
You put down your bag and walked over to wrap your arms around her waist, “Hey, you can do this. You can take down Dagon and save the world from Lucifer’s evil offspring. Maybe this is another reason why Amara brought you here.”

  
She looked sheepishly down at the ground, “Maybe, it’s just a, I don’t know if I can.”

  
You gently grabbed her chin and forced her to make eye contact with you. She looked like she was on the verge of tears, “Hey, I believe in you. Sam believes in you. You’re gonna be amazing.”

  
She gave you a weak smile and uttered, “Dean, I love you. Please, remember that.”

  
You leaned down and tried to pour all of your unspoken feelings into the searing kiss that you planted on her lips. She placed her hands on either side of your face and held you in place as your lips pushed back and forth against one another in several long kisses. Once she released your face, you gave her a tiny, playful smack on the ass, “All right, let’s go gank this evil bitch.” 

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
A sign outside of the car warned you that Coeur d’Alene, Idaho was just twenty miles away. 

  
“_Yippie fucking hooray!_” 

  
Your stomach had been in knots for the last twenty four hours and you felt like a prisoner on death row walking the green mile, your electric chair getting closer and closer with each passing mile. Would you be able to fake being too weak to kill Dagon, or would Sam and Dean finally realize that something was suspicious about your behavior?

  
“_Come on, they’re intelligent hunters. They’re gonna know something is up!_”

  
Over the past day and a half, you had tried to distract yourself by getting to know Eileen while the two of you were seat mates in the back of the Impala. She taught you a little sign language and you teased Dean by saying she was lucky to not have to listen to his music, which he adamantly defended. You also tried to pass the time by writing in your new hunter’s journal. You wrote about your life before you came to into this world and tried to remember as many details about your former family. You wrote about the hunts that you had been on with the Winchesters, falling in love with Dean and any other little details that you could possibly remember. 

  
The first night, the four of you pulled over just outside of Cheyenne, Wyoming a little after midnight for a few hours sleep. Thanks to your credit card magic, you were able to stay in a nicer hotel. Of course, you and Dean shared a room and Sam and Eileen each had a room to theirselves, even though you had encouraged Sam to pretend that there were only two rooms available when checking you in. But, being the good guy that he was, he chivalrously made sure that Eileen had her own private bed for the night. 

  
Now it was nearing midnight the next day and Sam was looking up hotels for you to stay in for the night. He finally found a suitable place just on the outskirts of town and Dean headed that way. Once again, Sam checked you into three rooms. You had been uncharacteristically quiet the whole day, trying to plot your course of action for when you met Dagon, and Dean had caught on. You carried your bag upstairs and into your and Dean’s room, heading straight for the shower. Dean ordered up some room service, obviously hoping to cheer you up. 

  
You sat on the bed in your sweatpants and t-shirt, picking at the cheeseburger and fries Dean had ordered. Your mind was still trying to work yourself out of the corner you had backed yourself into, when you felt Dean’s hand on your knee. 

  
“Hey, what’s going on in there?” he asked tapping your head.

  
You shrugged your shoulders and took a small bite of the fry that you had been twisting around in your hand for the last five minutes. 

  
Dean took your plate and sat it on his bedside table, “You’re nervous about tomorrow aren’t you?”

  
You slowly nodded your head. 

  
He laid down on the bed, taking you down with him and pulling your back to his chest so that you were the little spoon, “Remember, just do your best. I have faith in you, (Y/N).”

  
“I know Dean, I know.”

  
“Let’s try to relax and get some sleep. You’re no good to me if you’re tired,” he said, trying to crack a joke. 

  
“I know, Dean. I’ll try to be ready for tomorrow.”

  
He kissed your cheek and nuzzled your neck, “Night, princess.”

  
You lip quivered and you tried your best to keep your voice from breaking as you replied, “Night Dean.” For you knew this could be the last night for a very long time that Dean would hold you close and call you his princess. 

  
The next day, it was decided that Sam and Eileen would meet up with Mick at an abandoned shipping yard while you and Dean went to intercept Kelly as she made her way back to the healthcare clinic for the fake appointment Sam had tricked her into booking. You and Dean arrived at the Westview Medical Clinic at 4:30pm that afternoon. Dean parked Baby, leaving you in the backseat, while he rounded the corner to hide and wait for Kelly. Turns out, you didn’t have to wait very long. After only fifteen minutes, Dean was opening the passenger back door and gently shoving Kelly into the backseat. 

  
  


Kelly looked befuddled, “(Y/N), what is going on here?”

  
You took her hand in yours and gave her a reassuring squeeze, “Don’t worry, everything is going to be okay. Just whatever happens, go with it.”

  
She looked like she wanted to say something else, but Dean had made his way around to the driver’s side and was climbing into the car. You held up a finger to your lips and Kelly nodded in understanding. Dean looked back over his shoulder to make sure Kelly wasn’t going to put up a fight before starting up the Impala and pulling out into traffic. 

  
The drive to the shipping yard was eerily and uncomfortably quiet. Kelly never let go of your hand, holding onto you like she was drowning and you were her only life raft. Dean continued to occasionally flick his gaze up to the rear view mirror, checking in silently to make sure everything was fine. Every time you made eye contact, you gave him a small smile and nodded your head. The sun was beginning to set, coloring the sky with brilliant shades of orange, red and pink. It was almost as if the world was on fire and you were pretty certain, that you were the one that was going up in flames tonight. You could only hope that you would triumphantly rise from the ash when all was said and done. 

  
By the time the sun had set and the stars came out to illuminate the night sky, you were finally pulling up to your final destination. You saw Eileen, Sam, Mick and the other blonde British Men of Letters standing around in a semicircle, waiting to confront Kelly. Dean opened his car door and started to get out. You heard him ask, “This everyone?” before he shut the door, muffling the rest of the conversation. 

  
“Remember Kelly, whatever happens, it’s the best for you and your son, I promise,” you whispered. 

  
She smiled to herself, “Jack.”

  
“What?”

  
“Jack. His name is Jack,” she said, caressing her stomach.

  
“Yeah, I know,” you replied lovingly, nodding your head. 

  
Before either one of you could say anything else, Dean was opening up her door and reaching in to grab her by the arm. She smacked his arm away, “I can do it myself.”

  
Dean held up his hands defensively and let Kelly slide out of the backseat, with you quickly following behind her. You walked to the front of the car, never leaving Kelly’s side. Dean stood on her other side so that the two of you were surrounding her. 

  
The blonde male’s gaze met yours, “Ahhh, our mysterious American hunter. Wondered if I’d get to meet you. My name is Renny . . .”

  
You interrupted him, “Dude, no one cares who you are.”

  
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Dean smirk and give you a little side wink. Renny huffed in offense, but quickly regained his composure, standing up straight and turning his attention to Kelly. 

  
Sam began to speak, “Kelly, listen, we . . . all know you’re in a really difficult situation and we, we just . . . we wanna help.”

  
Kelly wrapped her arms around her middle, covering her stomach in a protective embrace, “You call this helping?”

  
Dean sighed, “Look, Kelly, that kid, it’s . . . I mean it can’t . . . I mean it’s _Lucifer’s_.”

  
“Yeah, I know. You think I wanted this to happen?” she replied, her voice breaking, “He used me. But I love this child.”

“You will mean absolutely nothing to that child,” Mick commented from his position to the left of you. 

  
You looked sympathetically at him, “Are we completely positive about that?”

  
Mick looked disgusted, “Yes! That child will kill us all!”

  
Dean waved a hand out in front of him, “Hey, come on.”

  
Sam tried to remain positive, “That’s, that’s not happening, okay. We’re, we’re gonna figure something out. We will. We . . .”

  
But before Sam could finish trying to figure out an alternate solution, Renny was reaching behind him and pulling his gun out from underneath his gray, suit jacket. He pointed the gun at Kelly, “This is absurd.”

  
You immediately stepped in front of Kelly and Dean looked towards Renny, warning him with a simple, “Don’t.”

  
The wind started to pick up, kicking dust up off the ground, blowing leaves and debris around in circles and whipping your hair around your face so your vision was partially obstructed. You heard Kelly sigh disappointingly, “She’s here.”

  
Thunder clapped in the sky and lightening crackled, causing the hair on your arms to stand erect. A bright flash of light stunned you, knocking you back so you were side by side with Kelly once again. In that instance, Dagon appeared in front of you, standing behind Sam and Renny. 

  
“Hey,” she called out, drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity. Those that weren’t facing her, turned towards her. However, before they could react further, she threw her hands out, flinging everyone back and down onto the cold, hard ground. That is, everyone, except for you and Kelly. You had felt her force blow past you like a gentle breeze on a cool, spring day. Her smug smile faltered and she held her hands out again towards you, trying to knock you back once more. 

  
Even though she really had no effect over you, you pretended to stumble backwards and fell to your knees. Dagon took a few tentative steps towards Kelly, but never took her eyes off of you. She furrowed her eyebrows in curiosity, momentarily trying to figure out what you were. She shook her head and returned to her mission, grabbing Kelly’s hand, “Come on, let’s go.”

  
Kelly looked pleadingly back to you, and you silently mouthed, “It’s okay. Go.”

  
Luckily, everyone else was just now starting to gather their senses from being attacked by Dagon. Mick and Dean stood up first and began to shoot at her in vain. She waved her hands, knocking them back once more. You heard Dean call out from the other side of the Impala, “(Y/N)! Do something! Now!”

  
You held out your hand, pretending to try and attack Dagon, but only used a minuscule amount of your power. Dagon stopped walking, her feet glued to the ground. She whipped her head around and stared at you in horror, “How are you doing that?!”

  
“_Holy shit! I’m really holding her in place!_”

  
You lowered your hand, releasing her, and pretended to collapse onto the ground from the strain of your effort. Dagon gripped Kelly a little closer to her and started to leave once more. You heard someone scurrying to your left and looked to see that Eileen had managed to grab the Colt and was pointing the gun in Dagon’s direction. You remembered all too well what was about to happen. 

  
In a moment of panic, you yelled out, “Eileen, No!” However, the deaf hunter would never hear your warning. 

  
With a gut wrenching *_BANG_* Eileen fired the Colt at Dagon. The world seemed to move in slow motion as the bullet flew through the air and Renny stood up from the ground, wielding his own gun. Suddenly, Dagon and Kelly both disappeared, leaving Renny smack dab in the line fire. Eileen gasped in shock as the bullet pierced the Englishman’s heart. The blonde British Man of Letters stood stunned as crimson red blood began to pool out from his wound, onto the front of his white dress shirt and pour out of his open mouth. He dropped his gun to the side and fell to his knees before collapsing face first down onto the ground. 

  
Mick rushed over to his side, searching in vain for a pulse. Dean made his way over to you and Sam went to comfort Eileen. She continued to stare at the dead man in horror, “I didn’t, I didn’t mean to. I was shooting at the demon.”

  
Sam placed a hand on her shoulder, “No, no, no, hold up. It was an accident. It’s all right.”

  
Mick stood up, finally resigned to the fact that Renny had died. He cocked his gun and pointed it at Eileen. You stood in his line of fire and Dean held out a hand, standing in front of you, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa what are you doing?”

  
Mick looked conflicted, “She killed a man of letters. She has to die.”

  
Sam pleaded, “It was an accident.”

  
Mick shook his head, but you weren’t convinced that what he was feeling and what he was saying matched up, “It doesn’t matter. The code . . .”

  
“No, hey, screw the code,” Dean said. 

“Mick, what if I could fix it?” you asked. 

  
Mick cocked his head to side befuddled, “What?”

  
Dean looked back at you, “You think you could do that? Looks like you were struggling with Dagon.” 

  
“I have to at least try. You know the Men of Letters, they’ll never let this go. They’ll come after Eileen whether Mick lets her go tonight or not,” you explained. 

  
Mick never lowered his gun, “What are the two of you blabbering on about? He’s dead! You can’t fix that!” You flicked your wrist and sent the gun flying out of Mick’s hand. 

  
He gasped, “What the bloody hell!”

  
You marched past Dean and Mick, “Just, give me a second, okay?”

  
You knelt down besides Renny and rolled him to his back before placing a hand on his head. You could feel the shredded muscles in his heart and taste the metallic bullet that was still lodged in his chest. You focused on repairing his wounds and extracting the bullet from his body. His soul was still lingering around the area, refusing to leave with his reaper. You concentrated on pulling his soul back into body. After a few moments of intense concentration, you heard his heart began to pump and felt his soul slid back into its vessel. 

  
Renny took in a deep breath and sat up straight, his eyes wildly roaming his surroundings. He clutched a hand to his blood stained shirt where he had been shot just moments before, “What was that?” He looked at you, “What, what did you do?”

  
“Nothing that you’ll remember,” you replied before tapping two fingers to his forehead, sending him back to England. 

  
You stood up, knocking the dust off of your pants before you felt a strong hand grab ahold of your right arm, spinning you around. Mick never let you go as he spoke, “What’d you do?! Where’d he go?!”

  
Behind Mick, you could see that Eileen and Sam had the same confused expressions on their face as Mick, while Dean looked like he wanted to kick his ass. You exhaled sharply, “Before we discuss anything, we need a change of scenery. Everybody, hang on tight.”

  
You snapped your fingers and suddenly the five of you were back in the Men of Letter’s war room. 

  
“What the hell!!!!” an unfamiliar voice screamed out from the library. 

  
Everyone else was still regaining their balance, so you were the first to make eye contact with the unexpected houseguest, “Is that . . . Donatello?”

  
Mick had finally let go of your arm to take a seat at the table and gather his bearings. You stepped forward as the grey haired professor stood from his seat in the adjoining room and approached you. Dean was leaning against the table, “Donatello? What are you doing here?”

  
“Yeah, how are you?” Sam asked as he pulled out a chair for Eileen before finally taking a seat himself. 

  
The prophet of the Lord was exactly as you remembered him, slightly plump with a a mustache and goatee, all topped off by simple, round metal framed glasses. He never took his eyes off of you as he answered the younger Winchester, “Fine, for the most part. No soul of course, thanks to Amara. It’s kinda like losing your appendix. You never really noticed it when you had it. But now, when I come to a moral crossroad, I ask myself, ‘What would Mr. Rogers do?’ And as soon as I nail that, I’m usually good.”

  
Mick was flabbergasted, “And who is this? How did we get back here so quickly? Someone . . . someone better tell me what’s going on!”

  
Dean was finally able to stand up straight, “This is Donatello. He’s a prophet of the Lord. But, what are you doing here?”

  
Donatello reached out to take your hands in his, “After God left, I decided to retire. I was checking out condos is Boca a few days ago, when I was knocked off my feet by this immense wave of power. It was something new, something fresh.”

  
“Was it Valentine’s day?” Mick asked, suddenly more interested in what the prophet had to say. 

  
Donatello nodded, “As a matter of fact it was.”

  
“That’s the same day the home office recorded the cosmic spike!” Mick exclaimed. 

  
Donatello continued to eye you with curiosity, “I was drawn to it, so imagine my surprise when it led me here to the bunker. It’s you. I was drawn to you.”

  
“What?” Mick queried, flashing his eyes between you, Sam and Dean. 

  
Donatello stood back to look you up and down, but never let go of your hands, “Yes, look at you. The waves of power radiating from you, it’s intense. Beautiful. Pure. I’ve seen archangels and God and Amara. But you, you’re different. Who are you?”

  
Dean stepped in and put himself between Donatello and you, “Okay, back up there. Give the girl some room to breathe. Everyone will get their questions answered.”

  
Donatello took the hint and made his way around to take a seat at the end of the table, but he continued to stare at you in bewilderment. 

Dean turned around and cupped your face in his hands, “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

  
You placed your hands over his, “I’m good Dean. I promise.”

  
“And Baby? Where’d she go?”

  
You couldn’t help but to chuckle, “Don’t worry, she’s safe and sound in the garage.”

  
“That’s my girl,” he replied before closing his eyes and giving you a quick kiss. 

  
“Excuse me!” Mick yelled, “I’m owed an explanation. Where is Renny? How is he alive and what in the bloody hell is this supposed prophet talking about?”

  
Dean dropped his hands from your face only to hold your hand in his. The two of you stood at the head of the table, side by side in unison. You let your gaze roam around the room, taking in everyone’s expression before finally turning to Mick, “Mick, it’s time you knew about everything. But first, I have to ask you a question.”

  
He pointed a finger to his chest and scoffed, “Me? You want to ask me a question? Well, this should be good. What do you want to know?”

  
“What do you know about the being known as a venatrix?”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“A venatrix?” Mick asked. 

  
You lowered your voice, “Hey, are you sure about this? Should we be telling him everything right now?”

  
She nodded her head solemnly and answered, “It’s time Dean,” before turning her attention back to Mick, “Yes, in all of the Men of Letters research, what do you know about a venatrix?”

  
Mick looked between you and your girl, “They’re a fairytale. A human with absolute universe destroying power. But, it’s said they have to remain a virgin before sleeping with their soulmate to earn their power. One has never existed before. We’re not even sure if they’re real.”

  
“Well, ta-da,” she said with a curtsy, “Here I am.”

  
“What? No that’s not possible. . .” Mick stammered. 

  
“Yep, it is and I am.”

  
“So what, does that mean you and Dean . . .”

  
“Yep.”

  
“And you were really a . . .”

  
“Yep,” she replied quickly before he could finish asking his last question. 

  
“Wow,” Mick said, obviously stunned by the revelation, “How long, how long have you known?”

  
“We just found out the night she came into her powers,” you answered. 

  
“Yeah, it was a very memorable Valentine’s day,” she added, shaking her head, “But it did answer a lot of questions. Like, how I healed that girl from being a werewolf.”

  
“You what?” Eileen asked, dumbfounded. 

  
Sam turned to her, “I’ll explain later.”

  
“Well, if you really are a venatrix, you should’ve been able to kill Dagon and Kelly. What happened?” Mick asked. 

  
“_Yeah, I was wondering the same thing myself,_” you thought. 

  
“Yeah, it looked like you almost had her. How’d she get away?” Sam questioned. 

  
She shifted from foot to foot, “I guess I wasn’t strong enough yet.”

  
“But you could resurrect Renny and bring us all here? Speaking of, what happened to Renny?” Mick asked. 

  
“He’s fine, I just erased his memory back to the point where he arrived here and sent him home. It’s best if he doesn’t remember what happened,” she answered. 

  
“You mean you could do all that, but you couldn’t kill Dagon?” you asked suspiciously. 

  
She sighed, “She’s a Prince of Hell, Dean. She’s hard to kill.”

  
Mick stood up, “Wait a minute, if you are a venatrix, then technically you should be able to travel in time like angels can, right?”

  
“I, uh, I don’t know,” she said, backing away from Mick. 

  
“Yes, yes you can! Gents, that’s it! That’s the answer!”

  
“Mick, what are you talking about,” Sam asked. 

  
Mick looked to Sam, “If she can travel back in time, she could go back to before the bloody devil impregnated Kelly and stop this all from happening in the first place. Then Lucifer’s child won’t be born!”

  
Donatello furrowed his eyebrows, “Lucifer has a kid?”

  
You waved Donatello’s question aside, “It’s a long story, we’ll explain later. Look, (Y/N), do you think you could do that? It would save us a lot of trouble.”

  
She opened and closed her mouth several times, “I, Dean, I mean I could try, but you know how it is messing with time. Time is a delicate thing.”

  
“Yeah, but if you can stop Lucifer’s freaking kid from being born, it’s a shot we have to take,” you urged. 

  
She lowered her head and you saw tears start to stream down her face, “But Dean, what about . . . What about us? What if it changes us?”

  
Everyone else in the room either lowered their heads or looked away, trying to give you two a bit of privacy. You rubbed your thumb back and forth across her cheek, “Hey, we’ll be just fine. We’re meant to be, remember? You going back and preventing Satan’s kid from being born won’t stop that.”

  
“How can you be sure?”

  
“I’m not. But, sweetheart, it’s a risk we have to take.”

  
She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath before snaking her arms around your neck and pulling your mouth down onto hers in a slow, sensual kiss. She didn’t try to slip her tongue into your mouth, but instead just let her lips linger on yours for several seconds. When she finally broke away, she sniffled. She caressed your face and whispered, “I love you Dean. I love you so fucking much.”

  


You smiled and leaned into her touch, “I . . .” but she held up a finger to your lips to stop you from speaking.

  
“But I’m not going back. I won’t,” she said. 

  
“Why are you being so selfish, (Y/N)! The world will be destroyed if you don’t at least try to do this,” Mick practically bellowed in frustration, his voice echoing off the walls. 

  
She flinched at his outburst, “Even if I could do it, I wouldn’t.”

  
“Why?” Sam asked. 

  
She brushed a few stray tears away and smiled wistfully, “Because Lucifer’s son . . . Jack? He . . . he needs to be born.”

  


  
“_What the fuck?!_”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cat’s out of the bag!! 😱😰 Stay tuned for the fall out of our Reader’s confession and everyone’s reaction!
> 
> Thanks to everyone that continues to comment and leave kudos, they truly make my day!!! Until next time, happy reading! 😘 🤗


	40. The (Tea) Party’s Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters and company react to finding out the secret you’ve been keeping from them since the first day you met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone that continues to comment and lets me know that they’re enjoying the story! You ROCK!
> 
> So, this chapter contains a third character’s perspective for one scene as I thought it was best to see certain things through their eyes. I don’t foresee it being a common occurrence, but just wanted to give you a heads up. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the next chapter!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
Dean dropped your hand as if it were a red, hot poker and took several large steps away from you. He was shaking his head quickly, mumbling, “No, no, no,” over and over again. 

  
“_Fuck me, here we go._”

  
Besides Dean’s repeated words of denial, the room was eerily silent. You let your eyes wander from face to face and saw that everyone was staring at you in utter horror. Sam was the first to gather his thoughts, “(Y/N), what, uh, what . . . what did you say?”

  
Dean gritted his teeth, “Don’t you dare say what I think you just said.”

  
Your lip quivered as you faced Dean’s rage head on, “I said that Jack needs to be born.”

  
He balled his hands into fists at his sides, “Jack? Jack?! Are you talking about Lucifer’s son?!”

  
You nodded, but kept quiet, letting him and everyone else process what you had just said. 

  
“No,” Mick stuttered, “No . . . No, you can’t be serious (Y/N). Have you completely lost your mind?!”

  
“You knew,” Dean said, realization dawning across his face. His face hardened and he stared at you accusingly, “You knew! This whole time, you were lying?! You knew about Lucifer’s son! We could’ve nipped this thing in the bud weeks ago! You do realize innocent people have lost their lives because of you!”

You whimpered, “Yes, yes I do. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly, Dean.”

  
Your heart shattered into a million pieces when he pointed a finger at you, “No! You keep my name out of your mouth. I . . . We, we all trusted you. Cas said we could trust you and you manipulated us into letting Lucifer spawn a devil offspring!”

  
You placed a hand on your chest, “You _can_ trust me! That is the only thing I have ever explicitly lied about! I had to, I didn’t have a choice.”

  
“You had a choice, (Y/N),” Sam said from your right, “You had a choice to tell us and you lied! Now . . . The whole world is at risk. And now, we’re fighting a battle we shouldn’t have to fight.”

  
“How could you know about this?” Donatello asked.

  
You took in a deep breath, “Donatello, Eileen, I’m . . . I’m not from this world. I was brought to this world by Amara . . .”

  
“Amara!” Donatello exclaimed. 

  
“Yes. Amara brought me here. In my world, Sam and Dean’s lives, as well as all of yours, are a TV show that I happened to love. That’s how I knew. I’ve seen how this all plays out and Jack,” you sighed heavily, “Jack is going to be wonderful.”

  
Dean smacked the table, “You’re crazy! You’re fucking crazy! I . . . I can’t listen to anymore of this.”

  
You called out to him, but he was already storming out of the room. Tears flooded down your face and you struggled to breathe. Each breath you took in was sharp and felt like knives clawing at your lungs. 

  
“Are you really defending the son of Satan?” Mick asked.

  
You struggled to keep your voice from breaking, “Look, when I watched all of this go down, I was terrified. I kept thinking that no way in hell could the son of Lucifer be good. I mean, what movie has ever shown Lucifer’s child to be anything but evil incarnate? But then, Jack was born and he, he proved me wrong. He proved all of you wrong.”

  
“You could be still be wrong,” Sam pointed out. 

  
You looked to the youngest, Winchester, wiping away a few stray tears, “Sam, everything else that I saw, every single fucking thing, has been _exactly_ the same! Exactly! Why should this be any different?”

  
“Because he is the bloody devil’s son!” Mick shouted, a vein throbbing in his forehead. 

  
“Not everyone turns out to be like their parents, right?” you asked, looking for a valid argument to try and make them see things your way, “He’s half human, right? Kelly is a good person and Jack is her son too.”

  
“Did you let her go?” Sam asked.

  
“What?”

  
“That day, in the restaurant, you let her go, didn’t you?”

  
“Yes. I told her back then that I was lying to you, and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I told her I knew how special her son was going to be and that I would do everything to protect her.”

  
“You let Dagon go,” Mick said disapprovingly, still in disbelief at your confessions. 

  
“I’m not the one that’s supposed to kill her.”

  
“What’s that mean?” Sam questioned. 

  
“You’ll find out soon. Look, I don’t wanna lie to y’all anymore, but this . . . How Dagon dies . . . It’s the last thing I need to keep a secret until it plays out. Please, please believe me,” you begged as wet, hot tears continued to run down your cheeks. 

  
Eileen stood up from her chair, “This is too much, I’m calling it a night.” With that, she left the room too, leaving you with just three people to try and convince that you hadn’t gone stark raving mad. 

  
Donatello pushed back his chair from the table as well, “I, uh . . . I think this doesn’t involve me anymore. I’m gonna get some sleep and regroup with you guys in the morning,” he said before heading off to find an empty room for the night. 

  
“_Great, down to two._”

  
You took a few tentative steps towards Sam, but he quickly rose from his chair and backed away, “Don’t. I . . . You’ve lied to me since the day I met you,” he said looking down at the ground, unable to make eye contact, “How am I suppose to know what was real and what was a manipulation. How do we know that you haven’t wiped our mind or messed with our memories.”

  
New tears sprang to your eyes, “You really think I would do that Sam?”

  
He finally lifted his head and you saw that his eyes were glistening with tears as well. He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know (Y/N). I don’t know.”

  


  
You took in a shaky breath, “Sam, I would never mess with you that way. I love you and Dean too much to do that. I would _never ever_ do that. It’s still me. The same nerdy girl that you’ve known for almost half a year.”

  
Sam sniffled, “I . . . I just . . . ,” but he was unable to articulate his thoughts.

  
You started to remind him of his promise to you just a few days ago, but he held up a hand and walked away, leaving you alone with Mick. You felt as if your legs were about to buckle beneath you, so you staggered over to a chair and sat down before you fell to the floor. You put your head in between your knees and sobbed uncontrollably. You heard someone’s footsteps, presumably Mick, walk around and take the seat in front of you. You wiped your nose and looked up to see the British Man of Letters staring at you with disgust, but you could’ve sworn there was a hint of empathy in there as well. 

  
“Have you been brainwashed or something?” Mick asked.

  
“No, Mick, I swear. I know I sound crazy. I _know_! If I were any of you, I wouldn’t trust me either. I know what I’m saying is absolutely psychotic, but Mick, I didn’t not make this decision to lie to everyone on a whim. I would not have lied to the Winchesters, to my goddamn soulmate, if I wasn’t one hundred percent certain of my conviction. If I could go back, I’d do it all again, because Jack . . . God, Jack is going to be so amazingly wonderful for this world.”

  
“How can you be so sure?”

  
“Because I’ve seen it. He’s the sweetest, most thoughtful and innocent boy.”

  
“Innocent? The son of Lucifer?!”

  
“Yes! And most importantly, he _wants_ to be good. He has no desire to be like his biological father. He wants to do good and Sam and Dean and Castiel, they’ll show him the way. But, if for some reason I’m wrong and Jack does not turn out like the one I know and love, I’ll take care of him.”

  
Mick scoffed, “You? You would really do that?”

  
“Mick, I’m not perfect. I’ll admit that I could be wrong. Luckily, I know have the power to fix that if I am. And I swear on my life, if Jack is born and he is truly evil, I’ll stop him.”

  
Mick rubbed his temples, “This has been an incredibly stressful day. I, uh, I need to file my report and head back to headquarters.”

  
You reached for his hand as he went to stand up from his chair, “No! Mick you can’t!”

  
He wanted to snatch his hand away, but you held onto him tightly, “What are you doing? Let me go.”

  
“Mick, you can’t go back there!”

  
“And why is that?”

  
“If you go back, Ketch is going to kill you. Dr. Hess is tired of you defending us, which I am eternally grateful for, and I know you’re sick to death of dealing with their Code. It broke my heart when they shot you and I will not let it happen again.”

  
“Why should I believe you?”

  
You let him go and exhaled sharply, “What else have you go to lose at this point? Listen, I think I have an idea. Let me, let me go back with you tomorrow to headquarters and if they try to kill you, then you’ll know I’m telling the truth. If they don’t well then you can go on and continue to serve for the Men of Letters, if you want to. But please, please Mick, just listen to me this one last time.”

  
Mick rubbed his neck and contemplated his options before answering, “Fine. My rental car is still back in Idaho though, so I have no way of getting back tonight anyway.”

  
You snapped your fingers, “Problem solved. Now it’s parked in the bunker.”

  
“Be ready to leave at eight,” he ordered before marching away. 

  
Finally, you were left alone with just your thoughts and guilt. You could only pray that your new family would forgive you one day, hopefully sooner rather than later. 

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
You had to get out of there. You had to leave her presence or all that fury and rage that was building up inside of you would be directed at her and no matter how much you hated her right now, there was still a part of you that didn’t want to hurt her. Once you rounded the corner, finally out of her sight, you stopped dead in your tracks and leaned against the bunker’s hallway. You wanted to leave, to not listen to another lie that came pouring out of her mouth, but curiosity got the better of you, so you stayed and eavesdropped just out of sight. 

  
You listened as she begged for forgiveness and actually defended her treacherous actions. One by one, everyone left. Each time someone new passed by, they gave you a questioning look, but didn’t dare speak a word. Finally, when she was all alone, you heard her continue to sob and speak to herself, “Am I doing the right thing? Yes, of course I am. I have to believe that if everything else is the same, that Jack will be the same. And Dean . . . My Dean . . . I have to believe he’ll forgive me when he sees it with his own eyes just how magnificent Jack is. Oh shit!”

  
A few seconds passed by in silence and then you heard her speak again, “Mary? Yeah, hey, how’s it going? That’s good, um, it’s been kind of a rough day today here, but uh, Mary, it’s time to get out. Things are happening and the shit is about to hit the fan. Can you get away? Good, perfect timing. Yeah, I’ll let the boys know to expect you tomorrow. I know, it’s been too long since we’ve seen you. I look forward to seeing you too Mary. Good night. Shit, she is so gonna hate me too.”

  
You heard her scoot the chair back and the sound of her impending footsteps signaled you either had to stay and face her or make a dash for your room. Not trusting yourself to not attack her, you quickly, but quietly, ran down the hall and ducked into your bedroom. You saw the shadows move on the other side of the door, indicating she was standing just outside. You waited, daring her to knock on the door or just assume she could come in as if nothing had happened. A few seconds passed and eventually, the shadows moved again and you heard the door to her original room open and close. 

  
You collapsed backwards onto your bed, trying to straighten out all your thoughts from the day, “_How could she fucking lie like that?! She’s crazy, she has to be crazy. But Cas did say we could trust her and Amara brought her here . . . No! No! She should’ve told me the truth! She could’ve stopped all those priests from being killed and saved Vince Vincente on top of so many other innocent lives. What was she thinking? Do we kick her out? Trap her and force her to tell us where Dagon and Kelly are gonna be? And who the hell is going to kill Dagon?_”

  
You sat up, screaming in frustration before grabbing the table lamp off your bedside table and slinging it across the room, shattering it. You shoved everything off of your desk and slammed your fists repeatedly against the top, leaving a few dents here and there. Your breathing was rough and ragged as you worked out your aggression. Once you were exhausted and your desk was dimpled with indentations from your fists, you stumbled backwards and sat on your bed. You stretched out your fingers, making sure that nothing was broken during your violent outburst. 

  
Now that you had worked out all of your anger and you were hidden away from the word, you allowed the tears pricking at the back of your eyes to flow freely. The first time you had allowed anyone in, tore down so many walls for them, they fucking betrayed you. You ran your hand down you face before laying down on your pillow. You were utterly exhausted from the day and just wanted to sleep. 

  


However, the lingering sweet, scent of coconut and pineapple from her current shampoo choice reminded you that for the first time in months, you’d be sleeping alone. You reached under your bed for your emergency fifth of whiskey and by the time you had chugged half of it, you were tipsy enough that the stabbing in your chest was a dull ache and you were able to fall asleep. 

  
The next morning, she and Mick were already gone by the time you made it out of your room and to the kitchen. Sam was already up, eating a bowel of cereal and sipping on a cup of coffee. You poured your own cup and sat down across from him, neither one of you quite knowing what to say to the other. You’re not sure how long you sat there in silence, but by the time you were finishing up your second cup of “hot bean water” as she came to call it, Eileen peaked around the corner. 

  
“Hey guys,” she said quietly, “I just wanted to let you know I’m heading out. I think I’m gonna go back to Ireland for a while. Get some distance from all of this.”

  
“Okay, you want me to walk you out?” Sam asked. 

  
Eileen smiled, “No, that’s okay. I’m a big girl. Good luck with everything.”

  
“Call if you need us,” Sam added. 

  
“Thanks for your help,” you mumbled, finishing off your cup of coffee. 

  


  
A few more minutes passed and Sam finally broke the silence between the two of you, “So, you heard everything she said last night?”

  
“Yep.”

  
“Did you two talk last night?”

  
“Nope.”

  
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. She slid a note under my door, saying she wanted to make sure I read it. I don’t think she trusted you to not rip it up.”

  
“Smart move.”

  
“Uh, yeah, anyway, she said she and Mick were going to the British Men of Letters to take care of some business and that mom would be here today.”

  
You sighed heavily, “I don’t care. I mean, I care about mom, but I don’t care where she’s at.”

  
Sam scoffed, “Really?”

  
“Yeah Sam, really. She lied to me! To you! To mom, to Cas, to everybody! And it’s not like she lied about her age or her weight, she lied about the spawn of Satan! How can we trust her after that?”

  
“I don’t know,” Sam said defeated, “Maybe we should call Cas and get him over here to see what he has to say.”

  
“I’ve already tried that! I’ve left him about a dozen messages and he’s gone radio silent on us. It’s just us Sammy.”

  
“So, what do we do about her? I mean, yes she lied, but I don’t get the feeling she’s being malicious about it. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t lie to her. Remember when you tried to use Rowena to send her back to her reality?”

  
“That, that was different,” you stuttered out.

  
“Really? Was it really that different?” Sam replied skeptically. 

  
“I don’t know. I just . . . I can’t deal with this today,” you said getting up to leave the kitchen. 

  
That’s when Donatello decided to make his appearance, “Good morning guys. I, uh, well since I figured out what that power was, I guess I’m going to be heading home. Still got a condo in Boca to find.”

  
“Good, great for you Donny,” you replied sarcastically, shoving past him and up the couple of steps between the kitchen and war room. 

  
“Dean,” Donatello called out, “I know I don’t know (Y/N) very well, and it’s probably none of my business, but her power, her energy, there was nothing dark about it. And when she confessed her secret last night to you, I could feel the sadness in her aura. She really does regret lying to you and everyone else.”

  
You nodded your head and said, “You’re right, it’s none of your fucking business,” before stomping angrily out towards the garage. You didn’t have anywhere to go, but you just needed to get away from there. You felt like you were drowning and the only way out was to drive. You started up Baby, revved the engine and peeled out of the driveway to try and clear your head. However, her face was smiling out at your from the keychain that hung in Baby’s ignition and before you could put in your favorite ‘_Metallica_’ cassette, that was stored in the case she gave you for Christmas, a Taylor Swift song blared out from the radio. In reality, there was no escaping the one person you were trying to erase from your memory. 

*****  
**Mick’s POV**

  
You and (Y/N) barely spoke more than handful of words to one another as you made your way to the British Men of Letter’s temporary headquarters a few hours away. As you got closer, she started to go over her plan with you and you agreed to go along with it, “But if you’re wrong and they don’t try to kill me, which they aren’t going to, I’m telling them everything about you and about . . . Jack.” It pained you to even say his name, but she insisted that separating him from his father’s name would help everyone to remember that he was his own person and nothing like Lucifer. 

  
“That’s fine,” she replied confidently, “I mean you were already summoned to appear here like I knew you would be, so everything is on track as far as I can tell.”

  
“Yeah, well being called to a meeting and being assassinated by your own people are two completely different things.”

  
“We’ll see,” she retorted before turning away and gazing out the window. You could see that she was still silently crying, obviously upset about last night. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she kept silent about her feelings. 

  
Soon enough, you were pulling up to the security guard alone. He waved you through, allowing you to drive through the gate to park near the headquarter’s entrance. You made you way inside, down the winding halls and into the storage unit that contained your office. You entered the security code and when you opened the door, you were shocked to find that Arthur Ketch was there, exactly as she had said he would be, flipping through a pile of folders that laid on the grand table in the middle of the room. 

  
“Ketch, why’d you call me here?” you asked in confusion. 

  
He tossed the file he was examining onto the table, “Oh, I didn’t.”

  
That’s when Dr. Hess came strolling in from the the entrance on the opposite side of the room, “Mr. Davies.”

  
As you spoke, Ketch stepped away from the table and stood off in the corner to your left, “Dr. Hess. I didn’t think you left London.” 

  
She looked bored and always spoke as if you were beneath her, “I don’t. But I have been tasked by the other elders to fix this rapidly deteriorating situation.”

  
“Ma’am, please I . . .”

  
But she interrupted you, “Are you about to tell me that you are doing the best you can? According to your own report you submitted just last night, you somehow managed to let a Prince of Hell escape and the mother of Lucifer’s child. On top of that, one of my best men has inexplicably appeared back in his home in London, with no recollection of how he got there. He doesn’t even remember me sending him to America or anything after that point.”

  
“If I might . . .”

  
She started to pace around the table, “These hunters are out of control. The brothers Winchester and their mysterious female associate, in particular, who you have yet to gather any intel on, despite her apparent soft spot for you. Lady Bevell has exhaustedly documented just how out of line they are.”

  
You sighed in frustration, “Ma’am, if you could just listen . . .”

  
“To what? More excuses?”

  
You thought to yourself, “_I’m trying to give her the answers she wants and she’s not even giving me a chance to speak._”

  
Dr. Hess had made her way around you and had now stopped pacing just in time to stand directly across from you, “No, I don’t think I will. Hunters are dogs, Mr. Davies. You give them an order and they obey. That’s how it works. So tell me, do they . . . do they obey you?”

  


  
You looked to Ketch briefly, making sure that he was still within your eyesight, but you were so frustrated that Dr. Hess would not allow you to speak without interruption, that you refused to even try and answer her questions at this point. 

  
She scoffed, “No. of course not. So, we will bring (Y/N) in ourselves for questioning. I’m sure Mr. Ketch can persuade her to be forthcoming about her past. As for the Winchesters, like any rebellious hunter, they will be investigated. And, if found guilty, executed as the Code demands.”

  
“‘_If_’? If they’re found guilty? Aren’t hunters always found guilty? And you’re just going to kidnap an innocent woman? Torture her for information?”

  
Dr. Hess clenched her jaw, “Be careful, Mr. Davies.”

  
“No,” you replied, earning a slightly stunned look from your boss, “My entire life with the Men of Letters, I never broke a rule. And yes, at first I was very shocked at how Sam, Dean and (Y/N) operate. But what Lady Bevell doesn’t mention is the lives they’ve saved, monsters destroyed and outcomes made better not because of the Code, but because of their sense of what’s right.”

  
You could see Dr. Hess was getting angrier the more you defied her, “And that is the crux of the matter. The Code is not a suggestion. It’s an absolute. The Code is what separates us from the monsters. It is the order by which we all live.”

  
You understood what (Y/N) had been trying to warn you about this whole time. You could finally see just how awful your former colleagues were and how blind you had been to their true intentions for American hunters. You were done following their Code. You straightened your back and spoke with more confidence than you had ever felt in your life, “No. The Code is what makes a young boy kill his best friend. When I was a child, I had nothing. I owed you everything and I obeyed. But I’m a man now, Dr. Hess, and I’v had some new friends show me the other choices that are out there. And I choose to do the right thing.”

  
Before you could utter another word, a silenced gunshot rang out behind you. You jumped, startled, but the bullet flew through your astral projection, making contact with Dr. Hess’ skull, right between her eyes. Blood trickled down her forehead and out of her mouth just before she collapsed onto the ground. Your form flickered as you turned around to see that Arthur Ketch was still aiming his gun at your head. He shot at you twice more, but the bullets would never hit you. 

  
“What did you do?!” he screamed. 

  
You gave him a smug smile, “I trusted the right person,” you replied before disappearing out of sight. 

  
You took in a deep breath as (Y/N) pulled your consciousness back into your body. The two of you were sitting in your car that you had parked a few miles away from headquarters. She gingerly removed her hands from the side of your head. She was beaming from ear to ear, but her eyes shined with unshed tears, “See, Mick. I told you. They were never going to listen to you. She had already made up her mind and had Ketch there to kill you. You were never gonna make it out of that room alive.”

  
“I, I cant believe it. You were right. You were really right about them betraying me.”

  
“I’m so glad you listened to me. I’ve said it from the beginning, you’re a good guy Mick. I never wanted them to hurt you.”

  
“So, now what happens?”

  
She wiped away the few tears that had escaped her eyes and looked out the window confidently. She straightened her back and her eyes lit up in a silver light. She spoke in a calm, but threatening tone, “Now? Now they go home.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“Mick, you stay here, I’ll take care of them,” you commanded, formulating a plan in your head. 

  
Mick looked slightly terrified, “What, what are you going to do to them?”

  
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill them. I still have the hope that some of them are good, like you are. But, I am going to make sure they never come back here again. I’ll be right back.”

  
Before Mick could ask anything further, you transported yourself to the front gate of the British Men of Letters headquarters. The security guard did a double take and asked, “Who are you? What do you want?”

  
You ignored him and proceeded to walk through the gate, opening it with a nod of your head. Immediately, alarms began to ring and sirens wailed. From unseen intercoms you heard a British accent call out, “Alert! Alert! Code 89! I repeat Code 89!”

  
You slowly, but determinedly strutted across the parking lot towards the main entrance. When you were about 100 yards away, soldiers came pouring out and took their positions in two lines to try and defend their base against you. There must’ve been at least forty Men of Letters, all of them dressed in head to toe black military garb, including bulletproof proof vests, automatic guns that were supposed to be intimidating and black helmets that turned them into faceless targets. 

  
You continued to walk closer and closer to them and one of them shouted out, “Stop! Now! Or we’ll shoot.”

  
You never broke stride as you continued to march told them. The Brit called out again, “Last chance! Stop!”

  
When your continued to advance toward them, he started counting down, “All right, everyone. On my count, open fire! Three, two, one . . . FIRE!!!”

  
The air was filled with the exploding roar of bullets flying through the air, aimed to kill you. You held up a hand and when the bullets were within two inches of you, they froze in the air. Once the soldiers’ clips were spent and they realized that you hadn’t been scratched, you dropped your hand to the side and smiled as hundreds of bullets clinked and clanked to the ground. 

  
The soldiers didn’t know what to do as you started to march towards them once more. One brave, or stupid, soldier actually tried to charge towards you, but you calmly ordered him and everyone else to, “Stay put and listen.” The Men of Letters were all suddenly stuck where they stood. You saw a few of them try to pick up their feet or slide them across the ground, but their attempts to move were futile. 

  
You finally made it into the door and soon enough, found the headquarters made out of shipping containers. Anyone else that you ran into that tried to attack, you simply glued them to the spot and walked right past them, focused on reaching your final destination. You stormed through the winding hallways until you made it to Mick’s old office and sure enough, Arthur Ketch was still lingering about. On the TV screens behind him were surveillance footage of the entire building, both inside and outside. Like a coward, he had chosen to stay back and watch as the events outside unfolded. He held a gun pointed to your head, but he had to know by this point that he was defenseless against you. 

  
“You! What are you doing here? How did you get past everybody?” he demanded. 

  
“You really have no idea what you’re messing with, do you?”

  
“What are you? A witch? I’ve dealt with plenty of witches in my lifetime.”

  
“Oh, I’m sure you have. I know one witch in particular. Rowena McCloud?”

  
“Ah yes, Rowena was one that did get the better of me,” he said with feigned dismay. 

  
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” you replied before closing your eyes and extending your arm outwards towards Ketch. 

  
“What . . . What do you think . . . . Ugh!” Ketch cried out in pain. 

  
You searched Ketch’s body until you found what you were looking for. Finally, there in his upper right thigh, you found the buried treasure. With a little concentration, you dissolved the magical hex bag that he had sewn into his body that would resurrect him upon his death. Ketch doubled over, grasping his thigh as his secret weapon was destroyed. 

  
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!” he shouted. 

  
“Sorry Ketch, when someone is as evil and sadistic as you are, you don’t get a second chance. When it’s game over, then it’s game over. No coming back for you.”

  
“You bitch! You wanker bitch! I’m going to . . .”

  
You snapped your fingers, silencing him. He continued to move his mouth, surely yelling out more insults and profanities, but no sound came out. You smirked, “You’ve rambled on quite enough. Now it’s my turn.”

  
You took in a deep breath and used your power to make sure that everyone on the premises heard your message, “Hear me you British, tea guzzling, Men of Letters douchenozzles! I am giving you twenty four hours, just twenty four, to pack up your shit and get out. However, any weapons or intelligence, well,” you snapped your fingers and transported all of their special toys and files to the bunker back in Kansas, “That’s mine now. If any of you dare to stay beyond this deadline, you will regret it. If you do try to come back or attempt to hurt an American hunter, my little parting gift, a curse, will be activated and you will die a slow painful death.”

  
Ketch laughed and mouthed something, so you momentarily allowed him to speak, “You really think that scares me? Or them?”

  
You continued to speak, “Now, if that’s not enough of an incentive to stay away, know that not only will this curse affect you, but your immediate family as well, going three generations back and all generations after you. So even if you don’t care about yourself, if you have anyone in your life you treasure, stay away . . . for their sake.”

  
Ketch stared daggers at you, jaw clenched as he took in hot and heavy breaths through his nose. You couldn’t resist closing the small gap between you, “Well Ketch, can’t say it was nice knowing you, but I will be happy to see you go. Now,” you patted him derogatorily on top of his head, “Run along home now like a good little doggie.”

  
You smacked him on the cheek before disappearing back to the car with Mick. He jumped at your sudden reappearance, “Ugh! You’re going to give me a bloody heart attack before the day is over.”

  
“Sorry Mick. Everything is taken care of now.”

  
“What’s that mean?” he asked suspiciously.

  
“Don’t worry, I’m not letting the power go to my head. No one is dead, I just simply gave them all a warning. A choice. They can go back to Britain and leave America alone or, if they choose to stay, then they’ll die. I don’t want to kill anyone, but if it comes down between them and my family . . . my family wins. No contest.”

  
Mick nodded his head, “Right. And . . . What about me? You giving me the boot too?”

  
You patted him on the arm and were thrilled when he didn’t flinch or try to pull away from the brief contact, “Of course not, Mick. You’re welcome to stay or to go back home to Britain.”

  
“I just,” he stared out ahead of him, “I don’t know what to do now. My whole life was the Men of Letters. What do I do now? Where do I go?”

  
“I guess, whatever you want to do. Look, as a token of my appreciation for everything you’ve done, for your faith in me, I’m going to give you a gift.” You snapped your fingers, “There.”

  
“What’d you do?”

  
“Well, for starters, this car is now yours. No need to return it. Also, if you check your wallet, you’ll find a new ID and a credit card that has no limit and resets every month, so you don’t have to worry about money.”

  
He pulled out his wallet and examined his presents, “You can . . . you can do all that?”

  
“Yes. It’s the least I can do. Even though you may not trust me at the moment, you did in the past. Take care of yourself Mick. If you need anything, please reach out to me.”

  
“And Jack?”

  
“Like I said, if Jack is more like his father than his mother, I’ll do what’s best for the world, I promise,” you replied reluctantly. 

  
“I’m going to hold you to that.”

  
You held out your hand for him to shake it and had to hold back tears when he accepted your gesture and shook your hand. You gave him a small smile and stepped out of the car. Mick turned over the engine and drove away, leaving you alone on the side of the road. You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. You weren’t quite ready to go back home or if you could even still call the bunker your home. You hadn’t heard from Dean, which really wasn’t a surprise, or Sam, so you weren’t sure if he even read your letter or not. For the first time since you arrived in this new world, you felt alone. 

  
You decided to go back to your hometown to walk around to try and clear your mind. You strolled around downtown, visiting familiar shops and restaurants you used to frequent and then decided to take a tour through your old neighborhood. As you approached your parent’s house, you were taken aback to see your mother was getting the mail out of the mailbox. You made eye contact and she waved, but she didn’t recognize who you were. 

  
You waved back, “Good afternoon. How are you?”

  
“Good, just fine,” she replied with a smile you never thought you’d see again. 

  
She started to walk back up the driveway, but you wanted just a few more minutes to talk to her, “I . . . Uh, ma’am? Ma’am?”

  
She stopped and turned around, “Yeah?”

  
“Um, I, um . . . Um, I’m thinking about buying a house for sale on a couple of streets over. What can you tell me about the neighborhood?”

  
“Well, there’s a couple of kooky people around here, but for the most part, it’s pretty quiet. I raised my two sons here in this house,” she said nodding towards your childhood home, “And we’ve always felt safe here.”

  
“Two sons huh? No daughter?” you asked, trying not to sound disappointed. 

  
“Nah, no daughter. Just two rowdy boys. I always wanted a daughter, but, just wasn’t in the cards.”

  
You bit your lip to make yourself hold back your tears, “Well, if it’s any consolation, you remind me of my mom and she was, if I do say so myself, great as a mother to a daughter. I’m sure you would’ve done a fantastic job too.”

  
“Well, thank you. Anyway, I’ve gotta get going. Good luck on the house hunting. I hope you find your home soon,” she said with a smile. 

  
“Thank you. Thanks a lot,” you replied. 

  
With that, she turned on her heels and made her way up the rest of the driveway and into her house. You didn’t know how much you needed to see her one last time until just now, and you felt like happy for the first time in almost two days. You wiped your eyes and chuckled to yourself, “I have got to quit crying before I die of dehydration.”

  
You spent the next few hours just sitting on a bench at a local park, trying to figure out how exactly you would dig yourself out of the hole you were in. After much contemplation, you resigned yourself to the fact that it would probably be several weeks or months before you were on good terms with the Winchesters again. There was no way they would believe anything you’d say. They would have to see with their own eyes, just how amazing Jack was. And Dean, Dean would be worth the wait. You were doing your best to remain calm with him and let him process the bombs you had dropped, but at some point, you were gonna have to be tough with him and remind him that he wasn’t perfect either. 

  
Once the sun began to set, you decided it was time to return to the bunker, whether you were ready or not to face Sam, Dean and . . . Mary. You’d temporarily forgotten about Mary and there was a lot of stuff to fill her in on, unless the boys had already done it for you. You pictured the bunker’s entrance in your mind and transported yourself with ease. This flying thing was becoming second nature to you, very quickly. You stepped through the entrance and made your way down the stairs to the crow’s next. 

  
However, something was . . . off. From underneath the door, you could see red, flashing lights. You were immediately thrown in a panic and on high alert. You slowly pushed the door open and sure enough, the bunker was completely dark, only intermittently illuminated by the blinking emergency lights. You gingerly made your way down the steps into the war room and were taken aback when you saw that Sam, Dean and Mary were tied up in chairs around the table, arms bound by rope behind their backs. 

  
Subconsciously, you approached Dean first and bent down to assess his wounds. His nose was broken and he had several scratches across his face. You tried to heal him, but he pulled back and yelled, “Get away from me!”

  
You stood and backed away, taking in Mary and Sam. They too were injured, but neither of them looked as bad as Dean. You snapped your fingers and released them from their bonds. Each of them took their time standing up, rubbing their wrists to ease the pain where the rope had rubbed against their skin. Dean rushed over to his mother to make sure she was okay and you made eye contact with Sam, “Dude, what is going on here?”

  
Before Sam could answer, the electricity flickered. The red lights turned off and the regular lights lit up once more. You had your back to the library and Sam nodded behind you, “They happened.”

  
The hairs stood up on the back of your neck as Dean and Mary looked in the same direction. An all too familiar British accent spoke, “Well, I was wondering when you’d show up.”

  
You deftly turned around and saw that not only was Arthur Ketch trespassing in the bunker, but he had brought Lady Bevell along as well. You shook your head and scoffed, “You two are dumber than you look. I gave you a fair warning to get out and instead, you choose to piss me off even further!”

  
“On the contrary,” Toni replied in her “holier than thou” tone, “We decided that you needed to be eliminated.”

  
With that, Ketch pulled out the Colt from behind his back and aimed it at your chest. He cocked back the hammer and smiled maliciously, “Good riddance, whatever you are.”

  
With your attention focused on Toni and Ketch, you hand’t noticed that Dean had made his way up to your side. He screamed out, “No!” before jumping in front of you just before Ketch fired. However, your reaction time was faster than his, so you were able to grab him by his shoulders and spin him around, putting yourself back in the line of fire. You gasped out in shock as the bullet made contact with your back, sending sharp, stinging waves of burning pain radiating down your spine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of everyone’s reaction? Do you have hope that the Reader will be able to patch everything up with the brothers?
> 
> Until next time 🤗 😘


	41. Math is Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You dole out consequences for being shot and Sam and Dean go on a hunt alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all those that continue to read, leave kudos, comment and bookmark my story. I am having so much fun writing and the story continues to grow and grow. This chapter was a lot longer than I anticipated, so I hope you enjoy!

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
Even though you knew she was perfectly capable of defending herself, as soon as Ketch had aimed the Colt at her, your protective instincts kicked in. However, she was faster than you and grabbed you by your shoulders, spinning you around and out of harm’s way before you could register what was happening. You heard the sickening *_BANG_* of the gun behind you and her grunt as the bullet undoubtedly made contact with her back. Your mother and Sam’s eyes widened in shock and you quickly turned around to assess if the Colt had done any damage to your girl. 

  
Her eyes were closed, face scrunched up in pain, “Son of a bitch, Ketch!”

  
You clasped her arms and asked in a voice more panicked that you expected, “(Y/N), hey! Hey are you okay?” 

  
Her raw strength and power almost knocked you off your feet as she opened her eyes. Her stunning irises were glowing silver and you could feel an electrical buzz start to radiate off her skin, “Oh yeah, I’m just peachy.”

  
She turned around to face Toni and Ketch, both dumbstruck that she hadn’t fallen to the floor dead. Ketch fired two more shots into her chest and you heard your mother gasp. Your girl flicked her wrist, sending the Colt out of the Brit’s hands and to the war room table before yelling, “Stop shooting holes in my shirt!”

  
She held out her hands, shoving the two British Men of Letters on opposite sides of the library entrance, struggling to breathe. Toni managed to choke out, “You can’t! There’s only five things in all of creation that gun can’t kill.”

  
(Y/N) scoffed and paced back and forth between Toni and Ketch, “You know, I’ve heard that a lot in my lifetime. But, the fact of the matter is, when people said that . . . I didn’t exist. Now . . . Now there are _six_ things that Colt can’t kill.”

  
Ketch coughed and clawed at the nonexistent hand at his throat, “What in the bloody hell are you?”

  
“I’m pissed off is what I am! I gave you both a fair warning. I gave you an opportunity to go back to your home and keep England free from monsters. But you just had to push your luck didn’t you?”

  
She rubbed her neck in frustration and took in a deep breath, “Toni, I’m going to give you one more chance. I know you have a son and I don’t relish the idea of me taking a young boy’s mother away from him, despite how sadistic and pig headed she is.”

  
She must’ve loosened her grip on the Woman of Letters, because she spoke more easily, “How, how do you know I have a son?”

  
Your girl replied, “Bitch, what you don’t know about me would fill a library.” She pointed a finger at Toni, “I’m going to send you home myself. For your sake, and your son’s sake, stay in England, or that curse I warned your colleagues about, that will wipe out your family that was born before and after you, will take effect.”

  
Toni smiled smugly at (Y/N), “You’re bluffing.”

  
“Believe me or don’t. I could give a rat’s ass. But I don’t dish out threats lightly. Hey,” she waved her hands out in front of her, “If you think I’m lying and start feeling froggy, go ahead and jump on back across the pond. But you think long and hard about if your son’s life is worth trying to kill me.”

  
She and Toni stared at each other long and hard, but neither one spoke for at least thirty seconds. Finally, (Y/N) said, “Good riddance,” and snapped her fingers, sending Toni away. She turned around and faced Ketch, “As for you, I’m not going to give you another chance to hurt me, my family or anyone else.”

  
With that, she snapped her fingers and Ketch’s body dissolved away into a cloud of dust. She stumbled a little bit, but finally managed to sit down on the library steps. She brushed her hair aside and took in long, deep breaths, obviously exerted from using her power. 

  
Your mother rushed to her side and wrapped an arm around her, “(Y/N), are you all right?”

  
She nodded her head, “Yeah, I just, that took a lot of energy out of me.”

  
Without even looking up, your mother commanded, “Dean, go get her some water.”

  
However, now that she was out of harm’s way, the suppressed anger and betrayal you felt was allowed to work it’s way back to the surface, “Naw, she’s fine.”

  
Your mother snapped her head up, “Dean! Go get her some water.”

  
You started to protest again, but Sam spoke up, “I got it. Be right back.”

  
(Y/N) lifted her head and rolled her eyes before saying, “Thanks, Sam.”

  
“Okay, is somebody going to fill me in on what’s going on around here?” Mary asked looking between you and your girl. 

  
“Yeah, a lot’s gone on since you were here last month, huh?” she chuckled nervously. 

  
You took a seat at the table just as your traitorous brother came walking back from the kitchen with a glass of water. He brought it over to (Y/N) and she thanked him for it. She reached out a hand tentatively and asked, “Sam, may I heal you?”

  
He looked at her, then back to you and you shook your head. He took in a deep breath and turned around, “Sure, kid.”

  
Your heart softened just a little bit as her eyes lit up with glee. She grabbed your brother’s hand and healed all of the cuts, scratches and bruises that Toni and Ketch had laid upon him. She turned to your mother next, “May I, Mary?”

  
Your mother looked completely dumbfounded, but nodded, allowing (Y/N) to heal her as well. Mary cocked her head to the side, “How, how did you do that?”

  
Sam backed away, taking the seat at the end of the table. Your girl smiled, “Well, um, it’s actually a funny story,” she said before going on to explain over the next ten minutes exactly what she was, her powers and the fact that you and her were soulmates. Your mother listened, enraptured by her tale, occasionally looking to you and Sam in disbelief. She finished her story by saying, “And, apparently you and I have a friend in common, because Amara is the one who brought me here too.”

  
“Really?” Mary asked. 

  
“Yep. I guess bringing us here at the same time would’ve been too much, so she spaced us out. But yeah, the darkness has a soft spot for De . . . your son over there.”

  
“That’s amazing. Did you know about this? When did you find out?”

  
Sam chuckled and (Y/N) gave him a death stare before stammering out, “Um, well it’s . . . No. I didn’t know until it happened. But um, my powers had to be activated and now they are and here we are.”

  
“So, you and Dean? Soulmates?” your mother asked with a huge grin across her face as she looked to you. 

  
“So the lore goes,” you answered in a monotone voice. 

  
“Mm-hmmm, we are,” she replied tersely. 

  
“That’s the other thing. Something’s off. What is going on between you two?” Mary questioned. 

  
You leaned back in your chair and responded sarcastically, “Yeah (Y/N), now that all the good news is out of the way, why don’t you tell her your other big secret.”

  
She snapped, “Well Dean, since you seem to have a lot to say about it, why don’t you go ahead and tell her!”

  
“Fine, I will!” you said, raising your voice, “This crazy soulmate of mine, she knew that Lucifer was going to have a child and she did nothing to stop it!”

  
Your girl clenched her jaw and stared daggers at you while your mother dropped her arm from around her shoulders. Mary furrowed her eyebrows, “Is . . . Is that true (Y/N)?”

  
Her face slightly relaxed as she turned to your mother, “Yes. Yes I lied okay. I lied to protect Jack.”

  
“Jack?” your mother asked in confusion. 

  
“Oh yeah,” you interjected, “That’s the devil baby’s name.”

“Shut up, Dean!” she replied desperately, “Jack is not going to be like his father. And once you see that, you’re gonna owe me a hell of an apology.”

  
You scoffed and rolled your eyes as your mother spoke up again, “So you knew Lucifer was going to have a kid? Why . . . Why didn’t you stop it?”

  
“Because, Jack . . . Jack is going to be a treasure for this world. He’s not evil. He’s more like his mother and, with all of us and Cas as his guidance, he’ll have a good influence over him. Plus, now that I know I have these powers, I’m going to try and save his mother.”

  
Sam leaned forward in his chair, “Kelly? What happens to Kelly?”

  
“See, I knew it. Damn kid is gonna get his mother killed,” you said.

  
“It’s not his fault, Dean. Birthing a nephilim is a very trying process on the human body. It’s fatal one hundred percent of the time.”

  
“Really?” your mother asked. 

  
“Yes,” your girl replied before looking at Mary curiously, “You seem . . . awfully calm about this. Why are you not upset? Or screaming at me like these two did.”

  
She shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know, I just . . . I agree that it’s crazy to think that Luc . . . Jack won’t be evil, but if you’re as powerful as you say you are, you can always stop him right?”

  
“I think so yeah, but it won’t have to come to that. You’ll see. You’ll all see.”

  
“I mean, you haven’t steered us wrong yet. So, let’s see what happens and we’ll go from there.”

  
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, “Are you serious right now?! She’s lied to us since the day we met her.”

  
“It was one thing Dean,” your mother replied. 

  
“It’s a pretty big thing to lie about! The spawn of Satan? Come on Sammy, back me up here.” Sam was silent as he looked at you with doubtful eyes. You urged him to agree with you, “Sam. Come on dude, we talked about this last night. She’s psychotic right? She betrayed us!”

  
Sam shook his head slightly and smiled nervously, “Dude, come on. She did what she thought would be best for someone she cares about. How often have you and I done the same thing?”

  
“_This is nuts. This is fucking nuts. They can’t both think that she actually did the right thing!_”

  
“I . . . you . . . uh . . . are you friggin’ kidding me right now, Sam?” you stuttered out in utter disbelief.

  
“Dean, she’s been right about everything else. Why would this be any different?”

  
“That still doesn’t change the fact that she lied to us!” you screamed. 

  
She popped up to her feet and stormed over to you, finger pointed, “Well, if that ain’t calling the kettle black! Dean, how quick you are to forget that you lied to me too! Twice! Including the little stunt where you went behind my back and tried to use a powerful witch to send me away without even discussing it with me!”

  
You stood up, towering over her, but she didn’t flinch, “That was different!”

  
“Oh yeah, how so?”

  
“I did it for your own good!”

  
“Oh yeah? Well then I lied for your own good.”

  
You started to yell back, but she held up a hand, “I’m not finished, Winchester. How many times have you lied to people in your life to protect them? To Sam? To Bobby? To Jody? Plus, people have lied to you and you forgave them. Why can’t you just give me the benefit of the doubt this one time? After everything we’ve been through? Do you really think I have anything but the best intentions for you and Sam and Mary?”

  
Even though your resolve was fading, you did your best not to let her know. Meanwhile, hot angry tears had sprouted up in her eyes. You swallowed hard, “You should have told us from the very beginning.”

  
“You would’ve wanted to stop Jack from even being conceived!” she shouted mere inches from you, her hot breath blowing across your face. 

  
You wet your lips and your eyes momentarily flicked down to her gorgeous mouth, “You’re damn right I would have.”

  
You noticed that her breath hitched in her throat and her eyes lingered a little too long on your lips, “See, you wouldn’t have even listened to me.” She must’ve gathered her senses, because she turned around and started pacing as she bellowed out in frustration, “UGH! We’re just going around in circles here. You’re so stubborn and hard headed sometimes.”

  
“Yeah, well it takes one to know one,” you retorted. 

  
She wiped the stray tears away from her eyes before standing straight up and eyeing you with determination. Even in the middle of your fight, the way she stood by her decision and refused to let you intimidate her, it was fucking sexy as hell and you couldn’t help but to respect her resolve. Her gorgeous, delicious breasts heaved up and down on her chest as she huffed and puffed, continuing to pace silently in front of you. 

  
Finally, she stopped and stood with her hip cocked to the side, arms crossed. She took in a deep breath and spoke calmly, “Look, I know I lied and I’m sorry. I really am sorry to have done that to you and I swear on my life that I won’t do it again. I forgave you, so when you’re ready to talk or forgive me, you let me know.”

  
You did a double take, “_Woah, was not expecting that._”

  
She turned to face your mother and brother, “Sam, Mary . . . Thanks for trusting me. I’m sorry I lied to you too. Maybe you can talk some sense into this one,” she said pointing a thumb at you. 

  
With that, she turned and looked at you one more time before heading off to her room. However, just before she turned the corner, she stopped and called out, “Hey Winchester!”

  
You twisted your head in her direction and saw as she gave you a mischievous smile before snapping her fingers. You felt a rush of pleasant, tingling warmth as your nose snapped back into place and all of your other wounds were healed. You touched your face and found that any trace of blood had vanished, “Hey, I didn’t ask you to do that!”

  
“I know. I did it because I love you, you jackass.”

  
You huffed and returned your focus to your mother and Sam, who were both chuckling lightly. You sighed, “What? What’s so damn funny?”

  
Your mother stood up and made her way over to pat you on your shoulder, “Dean, you two remind me so much of your father and I. You are so in over your head.”

  
You tried not to act too offended, “I, I am not.”

  
But your mother just shook her head, “Okay, whatever you say. Anyway, boys, I think I’m going to take a shower and hit the sack.”

  
“Are you gonna stay for a while, mom?” Sam asked. 

  
She shrugged her shoulders, “Probably. I think it’s best if we all stick close together until this whole Jack thing is resolved, don’t you?”

  
“Yeah, right,” he replied. 

  
“Speaking of, your friend Castiel, what does he have to say about all of this?” she asked. 

  
“We haven’t heard from him in a while. He’s gone MIA. I’ve tried to call and (Y/N) has reached out to him, but nothing,” you answered. 

  
“So, he doesn’t know about Jack?”

  
“Nope. Hopefully he’ll be the sane one and realize that all of you are crazy and I’m the only rational one around here. Lucifer’s child a good thing? Yeah, right,” you said, clicking your tongue in disapproval. 

  
“We’ll see. Crazier things have happened,” your mother replied before giving you a kiss on the cheek and heading off to turn in for the night. 

  
Sam stood up from his chair, “I think I’m gonna head to bed too. See you in the morning.”

  
Not long after, you made your way down the hallway and to your empty bedroom, changing into a dark green pair of pajama pants and a grey T-shirt before collapsing on the bed and letting your thoughts wander, “_Jack. Jack? How can my own mother and brother believe he’s not going to be the next devil? Just because she says so? I really need to see what Cas thinks about all of this. But . . . would she really want to hurt my family? To hurt me? I . . . I . . ._” Before you could come to a finite conclusion, you fell asleep, exhausted from the day’s activities and dreamt of you and a certain southern girl driving around in Baby listening to classic rock. 

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“_Old faithful room thirteen_,” you thought as you made your way back to your original room for another lonely night’s slumber. You opened the door and slammed it shut behind you, growling in aggravation. You ran your hands through your hair and tugged slightly, still vexed by the whole situation with Dean. Sure, yesterday you had been a tearful, soft spoken mess, but that was because you wanted to try and give him a little time to adjust. But today, well, you were still a mess, but his hypocrisy was becoming too much and you’d be damned if you let him walk all over you. You apologized and now, the ball was in his court. 

  
His mother’s willingness to be on your side was about as surprising as the fact that Dean was your soulmate. Her acceptance had knocked the wind out of you and made you feel relieved that someone was finally open to believing you. Then there was Sam. Good old hopeful Sammy. Of course Sam would quickly want to give you the benefit of the doubt and you were eternally grateful. 

  
Oh, but not Dean. Not your stubborn, alpha male, passionate Dean. You could have sworn that he was about to break though, when you were toe to toe, head titled up to face him in your own version of a verbal celebrity death match. The way he had stared at your mouth and sucked in his bottom lip when you got a little too close had sent arousal pooling in your panties. It had barely been more than 24 hours since you last kissed him, but it felt like eons. The way he towered over you, his whiskey smooth voice bouncing off the war room walls as his masculine scent overpowered your senses, you were certain that if he had chosen to bend you over that table and fuck you, you’d have quit arguing and let him just have his way with you. 

  
Thankfully, or maybe disappointingly, self respect and logic had won out. Now, you had another fun filled night of sleeping alone ahead of you. You changed into some comfy grey yoga pants and a navy green tank top before climbing into bed and dreaming about the mysterious, blinding white light, the chilly, dark room and failing to save Dean once more. 

  
The next morning, despite the fact that you knew it wouldn’t possibly work, you decided to try and get Dean to open up and talk by cooking his favorite breakfast, the pancake bacon dippers that he loved so much. After all, the way to Dean Winchester’s heart was definitely through his stomach. By the time Mary entered the kitchen searching for sustenance, you had whipped up a buffet of food. She happily fixed a plate and the two of you sat down for the first meal of the day. 

  
“Thanks for last night,” you said sincerely, “It means a lot that you and Sam aren’t shunning me like that other idjit.”

  
She chuckled, “I probably should be, but the way you speak so reverently about Jack . . . you really think he’ll be good for this world, don’t you?”

  
“I do. I really, really do.”

  
Before either of you could say anything else, Dean came stumbling in, rubbing the last remnants of sleep out of his eyes and looking scrumptious wrapped up in his light grey robe, his hair still a frumpy mess. He briefly made eye contact with you before looking towards Mary, “Morning, Mom.”

  
“Morning, Dean,” she replied, “(Y/N) made breakfast.”

  
“I’m not hungry.”

  
“Yeah right,” you mumbled under your breath.

  
“What was that?” he asked snarkily. 

  
“Nothing. Nothing at all, _Winchester_,” you said emphasizing the last word. 

  
His gorgeous, glimmering green eyes narrowed in on yours for a fleeting moment before he sauntered over behind Mary towards the coffee maker, “Mmm-hmm. Well, I just want some coffee.”

  
“You sure Dean?” Mary questioned in confusion, “She made these bacon dipped pancakes and a whole bunch of other stuff. It’s really good.”

  
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said taking a seat beside his mother and avoiding any further eye contact with you. 

  
“Oh, let him pout, Mary. That just means more for us,” you taunted. 

  
Dean rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond, instead opting to just sit and drink his first caffeinated beverage of the day. A few minutes passed in awkward silence, the scraping of your and Mary’s utensils against your plates the only sound filling the air. Just as Dean was starting on his second cup of coffee, Sam came strolling in, laptop in hand. 

  
He held his head high and took in a deep whiff before sitting down on the empty stool beside you, “Smells good in here.”

  
You took a big bite of scrambled eggs, “Tastes good too. You should fix a plate. There’s plenty to go around.”

  
He glanced over, saw Dean drinking his coffee and shook his head, “Uh, yeah, sure. Just a second though. So, look, check this out.” Sam pulled up an article on his laptop and spun it around so everyone could see, “A few weeks ago, a kid named Jarrod Hayes went missing in Tomahawk, Wisconsin.”

  
Dean shrugged his shoulders, “So, people go missing all the time.”

  
“Yeah, but the report says the sheriff didn’t find a body or any signs of foul play.”

  
“And? Maybe he ran away?”

  
“I thought that too. But, I did a little digging and it turns out that there has been a missing person there every year from 1898 to 1997.”

  
“And then it just stopped suddenly twenty years ago?” you asked. 

  
“Yeah,” Sam replied, “Well at least until now. Maybe it’s part of a cycle or something.”

  
You tapped the screen, “Actually, I think I may know this one.”

  
“Oh goody,” Dean mumbled sarcastically.

  
“It could all be related to the God of sacrifice. But, I can’t remember the exact location of that case or the specific names involved. But if we go and find out it has something to do with a goat like creature, then yeah, I know what’s going on and who’s behind it all.”

  
Dean stood up from the table, “Oh no, you’re not coming with us.”

  
“You didn’t even think this was a job in the first place,” you retorted. 

  
“Yeah, well, anything to get out of this place. I’ve hunted on less, might as well check it out,” Dean replied. 

  
“Besides, _Winchester_,” you added, “I don’t recall asking for or needing your permission to come along.”

  
He pointed a finger at his chest, “My car, my rules.”

  
You threw your head back, “Ha! I don’t need your car, Winchester. I can get there on my own, remember? And a lot faster too, smartass.”

  
Dean stammered out a response, “Well, you . . . Fine. Go if you want, but we are not working this case together. Sammy meet me at the car in ten.”

  
With that, Dean took off to presumably go change and leave for the hunt. Sam patted your hand, “Hey, (Y/N), if you wanna come . . .”

  
But you cut him off before he could finish, “No, Sam, that’s okay. I don’t wanna go where I’m not wanted. Besides, I can keep myself busy here. But if you get there and someone mentions a goat creature, call me and I’ll give you the walkthrough guide on how to take down the monster. Deal?”

  
“Deal,” he replied before turning to Mary, “Mom? You wanna come along?”

  
She thought about it for a few seconds, “Actually, why don’t you and your brother go along. I’m gonna stay here. Recharge the batteries.”

  
“Okay then, uh, I guess I’ll be in touch,” Sam responded before leaving the kitchen towards the garage before Dean could bite his head off for making him wait. 

  
You heard the bunker door open and close, leaving just you and Mary alone for the first time. You weren’t exactly sure why, but suddenly you felt very nervous to be alone with Mother Winchester. You gave her a small smile, “So, um Mary?”

  
“Yes?” she replied with curiosity. 

  
“I, um, I yeah, I could actually use your help with something.”

  
“Really? With what?”

  
“I think it’d be better to show you.”

  
The two of you finished breakfast and cleaned up before you headed down to the bunker’s archives where you had transported your treasure from the British Men of Letter’s headquarters. You opened the door and were surprised at just how much stuff there was inside. There were numerous piles and piles of documents, folders, books and various caches of weapons scattered about the room. 

  
Mary gasped, “What is all this?”

  
“I took it. From the Brits. Call it an ‘asshole tax’.”

  
Mary slowly began walking through the columns of piled papers, running her hand tenderly along the files, “Wow. This is . . .”

  
“A lot, yeah. I wasn’t excepting this much but I figured the less they had and the more we had, the better off we were.”

  
“So, what do you need me for?”

  
“Well, you’ve been working with them for some time, I figured you might be able to help catalog the weapons while I sort through the paperwork for any useful information. After all, I couldn’t even begin to guess what some of these gadgets are used for,” you said as you opened up one black suitcase that contained a megaphone shaped item with spikes around the end.

  
“Okay, sure. I’d love to help.”

  
The next couple of hours were fairly quiet as you and Mary started cataloging and organizing your stolen haul. You ended up putting some music on in the background and as she came across a new weapon she recognized, she’d tell you about the hunt she used it on and how the weapon worked. After a few hours, she asked, “So . . . last night?”

  
You sighed heavily, “Yeah, I know it was a lot to take in. Mary, again, I am so sorry that I lied and I know I have a lot to make up for, but I’d love to just take a break from taking about everything and focus on this,” you said placing your hands on top of the file of folders in front of you. 

  
“No, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  
You cocked an eyebrow and turned your head, “Oh. Well then, what is it?”

  
“Before you went to bed last night . . . you told Dean that you loved him.”

  
You nervously tucked your hair behind your, “Mmhmm.”

  
“That’s quite an interesting development. I didn’t know you two were at that point,” she said happily. 

  
“Well, uh, I mean he hasn’t said it, but I feel it, ya know. And I, I just hope he still believes it, because I told him before I knew all about the soulmate and venatrix stuff. I just don’t want him to think it was a lie, because I really do love him, Mary.”

  
“You don’t have to convince me,” she replied with a warm smile. “You know, you’re good for him (Y/N). Even when you two are arguing, I can tell just how much he cares for you. He wouldn’t put in that much effort into a fight if he didn’t care.”

  
You scoffed, “He’s like the kid on the playground pulling the girl’s hair that he really has a crush on.”

  
She laughed, “Exactly. I’m sure this whole thing will blow over soon.”

  
“I hope so. I know he’s the kind of person that needs some space to work through how he’s feeling, but he’s not gonna treat me like a doormat while he does. Neither one of us is perfect and I apologized and explained my side of the situation. That’s all I can do at this point.”

  
Mary shelved one case and picked another up off of the floor, “Yeah, it is.”

  
“Dean is the type of person that needs to see something to believe it. Actions speak louder than words for him.”

  
Mary opened the case and pulled out a weapon you actually recognized, the hyperbolic pulse generator, “John was like that too.”

  
“Really?”

  
“Mmhmm,” she said staring wistfully off into the background with a tiny grin. 

  
“Well, I’m just gonna carry the faith for the both of us until he sees just how great Jack is,” you took in a deep breath, “Okay, I think I need a break. My brain is fried. Lunch?”

  
“Sure, what do you feel like?”

  
“Hey, your wish is my command. Whatever you want is just a snap of my fingers away,” you said with a wink, earning you a small chuckle from Mother Winchester.

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
The trip to Wisconsin was pretty uneventful and quiet for the most part. You tended to zone out and just listen to the radio and purr of Baby’s engine on long stretches of road while Sam either listened to music on his phone or researched. He had been looking up lore on the God of sacrifice and found that it’s name was Moloch. As you two neared the hotel you were staying in for the night, Sam asked, “So, have you heard anything more from Cas?”

  
“No. I’ve been trying, Sam. He’s gone AWOL. Even the GPS on his phone is turned off and I haven’t seen any stories about a weirdo in a trench coat getting arrested or turning up dead.”

  
Sam clicked away on his keyboard for a few minutes, “Yeah, I’m not seeing anything either. Okay then. Well, this isn’t exactly the first time he’s dropped off the map. I’m sure he’ll be fine. He always is. And if he was in danger, I’m sure (Y/N) would tell us.”

  
You two were mostly quiet for the rest of the night, choosing to grab some grub and eat in the hotel room so you could shower and get an early start in the morning. Bright and early, you two dressed in your fed suits and headed over to the police station. You walked in to find an officer dressed in a dark brown uniform entrenched in a taxidermy job. He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties with a full, dark beard and hair that was short on the sides but longer on top. 

  
He briefly looked up from his table, “Oh, morning fellas. What can I do you for?”

  
You held out your badge, “I’m Agent Martell this is Agent Stark. Is the sheriff around?”

  
“That’d be me. I’m Sheriff Barrett Bishop, Jr. ” he said returning his focus to the literal pet project in front of him. 

  
You tucked one hand into your long, dark jacket and learned against the front desk while Sam stood on your right side with his back to the door. You asked, “Good. So what can you tell us about the disappearance of Jarrod Hayes?”

  
The sheriff had his face pressed in concentration as he peered through the bright ring of light that allowed him to magnify what he was sewing on the disturbing monstrosity in front of him, “I’m sorry, but why are the feds interested in Jarrod Hayes?”

  
You let your gaze linger on the dead animal for a few more seconds and internally chuckled at how it almost looked like a mutated chipmunk, which immediately made you think of (Y/N) and Crowley’s little nickname for her. 

  
“_Son of a bitch, she’s everywhere._”

  
Sam cleared his throat, “We’re just, uh following orders. So yeah, what can you tell us about the case?”

  
Barrett started sewing something onto the Frankenstein chipmunk’s arm, “Well . . . nothing much to tell. Jarrod and his friends were hanging out at the weather top. This make out spot the kids use out in the woods. And then he ditched his pals to hoof it home. Never made it.”

  
“So somebody snagged him?” you asked. 

  
The sheriff sounded completely disinterested in the topic, “Mmm, maybe.”

  
There was a long pause before Sam continued the interrogation, “Maybe?”

  
Barrett briefly leaned back in his chair to look at you and Sam as he spoke, “Look, maybe Jarrod did get got. We’re working every lead. But, you ask me, he just bailed.”

  
“And why would he do that?” you wanted to know. 

  
“Jarrod’s had it rough. Mom left years ago and his dad, well, let’s just say that Jarrod ‘fell down the stairs’ a lot, if you know what I mean.”

  
Sam shifted his feet, “Wait a second. If you knew he was being abused, why didn’t you . . .”

  
The sheriff actually displayed some remorse as he interrupted your brother, “We tried. Trying to take a child a child away from his parents, even if they’re the worst people in the world, it’s not easy.”

  
“Have you talked to his old man?” you asked. 

  
“Can’t. Not really. Guy stroked out a couple of years ago. Breathes through a tube. Guess who gets to take care of him? Can you imagine having to spoon feed the guy that wailed on you for all those years? Everybody’s got a breaking point. If Jarrod did blow town, I wouldn’t blame him.”

  
You continued to push the sheriff for any useful information that sounded like it could be a real case for you and Sam, “You said that he was with his friends the night Jarrod went missing. Did any of them say anything?”

  
“Nothing worth repeating,” Barrett replied as his work tool clattered to the table. He sat back, held out his hands in front of him and expected you two to be impressed by his eyesore, “Ain’t it precious?”

  
You gave him a quick nod, trying to placate him, “Uh huh. Any idea where we can find these friends?”

  
“Oh yeah. Sure,” he answered. 

  
The sheriff pointed you in the direction of a young man that was a close friend of the missing person and even directed you to his place of employment, the Billhook premium quality meats factory just on the outskirts of town. You quickly drove over there and asked around for Daryn Boston. Eventually, one of the other workers told you he was out back on his smoke break. 

  
“Well, that sheriff was a few cards short of a full deck,” you noted as you and Sam headed towards the break area. 

  
“Yeah, right. He uh, seems a little calm about the whole thing too, huh?”

  
“Tell me about it. He was more focused on finishing that freak of nature art project than the missing person in his town.”

  
You turned a corner and spotted a lone man sitting on top of a wooden picnic table underneath a covered patio. He was wrapped up in a navy green jacket with light brown fur trimmed around the hood that almost covered his dark curly hair. A puff of smoke rose above him and you immediately recognized the smell from your younger days. 

  
You and Sam held out your badges and your brother spoke first, “Daryn Boston? Agents Stark and Martell, FBI.”

He turned his head and sighed like a child that was just caught with his hand in the cookie jar before tossing his joint to the floor, “Hell.”

  
You leaned down and picked his discarded joint off the ground, handing it back to him, “Yeah, no, it’s cool. Medicinal purposes, right?”

  
Daryn replied haltingly, “Uh . . . yes.”

  
A delivery truck beeped in the distance as Sam began to question the young man, “We just, uh, wanted to talk about the night Jarrod Hayes went missing.”

  
“What about it?”

  
“Well, the sheriff says you were with him.”

  
Daryn shook his head and spoke with a disgruntled tone, “Yeah, well the sheriff is a jackass all right? Look, he thinks Jarrod skipped town.”

  
“You don’t?” Sam asked. 

  
“I know he didn’t.”

  
You crossed your arms, “Did you tell that to the cops?”

  
“Man,” Daryn scoffed, “Sheriff Bishop’s not gonna believe me. We got . . . history.”

  
“History?”

  
“Anytime something happens in this town, he bring me in for questioning.”

  
Sam briefly looked to you before asking, “Why is that?”

  
Daryn held the joint in his hand, “Why do you think?”

  
Your brother nodded, “Right.”

  
You urged Daryn on, “Well look, if you won’t tell the sheriff what you saw, how ‘bout you tell us?”

  
His voice was quiet and shaky, “Look, I ran to save Jarrod, okay? But . . . the monster. It got him.”

  
“Monster?”

  
“Black Bill,” he replied with utter terror in his eyes, “You can think I’m crazy if you want, but it’s the truth. Black Bill got Jarrod.”

  
“Right,” Sam asked, “Anything else you can tell us?”

  
Daryn shook his head, “I, I don’t wanna talk about it anymore and my break is over,” he said tamping out his joint and tucking it into his jacket pocket or later. 

  
You handed him a card with your cellphone number, “Call us if you think of anything else.”

  
You and Sam decided to head over to a diner, “_Gus’ Buck Shot Café_” for lunch and so that he could do some more digging on this “Black Bill” character. The waitress brought over coffee and took your order while you checked your phone for any missed messages. Of course, there were none. 

  
“_Geez, I’m like a thirteen year old girl,_” you thought as you sipped on your coffee. 

  
Sam started to prattle on, “So “Black Bill” is a local urban legend. Dates back to more than a hundred years.”

  
You absentmindedly listened to your brother and only looked up from the table when the waitress stopped by the table. “Warm it up?” she asked asked pointing to your mug, even though it was only halfway empty. You nodded and she smiled before walking away. 

  
Sam continued to drone on, “There’s a folklore story from 1907 that mentions him. Um, back then he was called “Black William” so it looks like sometimes between now and then . . .”

  
But you had longed stopped paying attention and focused on the young, blonde waitress as she flounced to the back of the counter. Normally, you’d have been all over her, not wanting to miss out on a chance for a little rendezvous with the local talent. But now, any other chick you saw was automatically compared to (Y/N). The waitress had a decent face and a nice body, but she was just a little too thin for your liking. She definitely didn’t have the luscious ass that your girl had, nor that special little freckle in the middle of her chest and she definitely didn’t make your heart rate accelerate every time she smiled like (Y/N) did. 

  
Sam tapped on the table, “Dude, focus.”

  
You sighed heavily and turned your attention back to Sam. The waitress brought over your food and you squirted some ketchup onto your burger, “I am focused. Black Bill, yeah. What do you got?”

  
“All right, well he lives up in the woods, so he’s like a local jersey devil. Wait . . . it says here he has the head of a goat.”

  
Sam looked up at you expectedly and you nodded in understanding, “Okay, so it is something she knows about.”

  
“Great,” Sam said pouring his minuscule amount of dressing over his salad, “Well we should call (Y/N) and get the inside scoop.”

  
You took a big bite of your burger and spoke with a mouthful, “You call her.”

  
“Dean, when are you gonna . . .”

  
You held up a hand, “Sammy, don’t try to Dr. Phil me right now. Let’s focus on the case.”

  
“But dude . . .”

  
“No. Now you may still believe that everything is going to magically work itself out with our devil baby mama drama like a fairy tale, but not me. I’m gonna wait and see exactly what this kid is like first.”

  
Sam rolled his eyes, “Fine, I’ll call her. But I’m not playing “telephone” and passing messages back and forth between you two.”

  
“I didn’t ask you to.”

  
“Not yet.”

  
You scoffed and eavesdropped as Sam called her to get the details of the case. The waitress came over again to “warm up your coffee”, letting her hand brush along the back of your neck as she bent over a little further than than necessary, exposing her cleavage to you. You leaned away from her touch, but she continued to flirt. She squeezed your shoulder and winked, “Just let me know if want anything else, sugar.”

  
Sam raised his eyebrows and spoke into the phone, “Oh, that’s just the waitress. Yeah she’s refilling the coffee. Okay, yeah, we’ll get on it. Thanks (Y/N). I’ll call if we run into any trouble.”

  
You dipped a couple of fries into our ketchup before shoving them in your mouth, “So, what we dealin’ with here?”

  
“Uh, we should finish up here and talk in private, just to be safe.”

  
“Really?” you asked in disbelief 

  
“Yeah,” Sam replied.

  
The two of you finished up your meal and you managed to avoid any further unwanted physical contact from the waitress. When you were done, you threw a twenty dollar bill onto the table and headed back to the hotel. Sam sat down at the table and pulled up some information on his laptop before he started to fill you in on the details, “So yeah, it’s definitely Moloch.”

  
“Great, another God to deal with.”

  
“Right? (Y/N) said that it feeds on human blood.”

  
“Okay, so where has this douchebag “My lick” been for the last twenty years? Why start up the killings again now?”

  
“That’s the thing, it’s not entirely Moloch. Apparently it’s sheriff Bishop’s half brother, the manager of the factory that’s behind it all. See the Bishop family actually founded the town. Everything. This is a company town. If you lived here, you worked at the plant. The Bishops owned all the house and all the businesses. Can you guess how they did it?”

  
“Moloch?”

  
“Yep. The Bishop family used to own practically everything in town because they captured Moloch and kept him chained up in their basement for over a century, sacrificing one person a year to maintain their fortune and good luck.”

  
You scoffed, “Why is it always the rich ones? I mean, what, are they like, ‘Croquet’s all right, but you know what’d be great? Murder’?”

  
Sam chuckled before continuing his story, “Apparently, when the sheriff’s father passed away, Barrett quit feeding him and hoped he’d starve to death.”

  
You sat down on the bed, “So why did the illegitimate son start feeding it again?”

  
“According to public records and (Y/N), Barrett started selling off stuff a few years ago. His brother wasn’t too happy about it and went back to the old family estate to loot the place. But instead of finding jewelry or bonds . . .”

  
“He opened up curtain number two and found a God.”

  
Sam nodded his head, “Exactly.”

  
You clicked your tongue, “Sounds like a bad episode of ‘_Dynasty_’. Ok, so this guy starts feeding Moloch, hoping to kickstart his own wealth. So where do we find this thing?”

  
“She said that it’s being kept at the factory in a blocked off freezer that is supposedly shut down for some kind of maintenance or repairs. But, we need to head over that way tonight because apparently the sheriff’s brother is going to kidnap Daryn for talking to us.”

  
You tapped your jacket pocket, “Well, good thing Mick let us keep the Colt. It’ll dust anything, so let’s head on over and stake the place out.” Sam chuckled so you asked, “What’s so funny?”

  
“Nothing, it’s just, she uh said you’d say that. The thing about the Colt dusting anything.”

  
You shook your head and went to change into more comfortable clothes before heading back over to the factory, “Stupid alternate realities and their friggin’ TV shows.”

  
“You think we should call the sheriff? Fill him in on what’s going on?”

  
“Let’s wait until after we’ve done our job. Don’t want too many cooks in the kitchen, you know what I mean?”

  
“Right, yeah,” Sam replied in agreement. 

  
It was a few hours later and you and Sam were sitting in Baby in the employee’s parking lot. One by one, everybody had left and eventually, big, fat snowflakes started to fall and stick to the road. You had yet to see Daryn leave, but there was still one truck, a red and silver Ford, in the parking lot about a hundred yards away. As ten o’clock approached, you started to get frustrated, but then, Daryn finally came strolling out of a back door with a metal lunchbox in hand. 

  
Sam was busy texting on his phone, so you tapped him on the chest, “Look alive Sammy.”

  
He looked up and saw the young man approach his car. He nodded and reached for his car door, “Okay, let’s go.”

  
The white, untouched snow crunched softly underneath your boots as you stealthily crept towards the truck. You paused to hide behind a shipping container so that Daryn wouldn’t notice you. Sam stayed hidden while you peeked around the corner and watched as he climbed into his vehicle. 

  
You looked to Sam and whispered angrily, “I thought you said he was gonna be kidnapped tonight?”

  
“That’s what (Y/N) said!”

  
Suddenly, the sound of glass smashing tore through the night air. You and Sam both exited from your hiding spot and ran towards the truck just in time to see Daryn being pulled through his window and flung onto the ground by a tall figure wearing a black goat mask with two long, sharp horns. The attacker raised a heavy mallet, intent on attacking Daryn, but before he could make his next move, you and Sam both fired off several rounds into his chest. Blood exploded from his wounds and he stumbled back several feet before falling to the ground, his weapon scattering across the road. 

  
You ran over and Sam was the first to reach Daryn, “Hey, hey, you okay.”

  
“What the hell was that?!” he screamed. 

  
You sauntered over to the young man’s attacker and removed the mask. Daryn gasped, “Pete? That’s . . . he’s my boss! This is, I, uh, that is so messed up!”

  
“Run along home, kid, we’ll take care of it. We’ll make sure the sheriff knows you had nothing to do with this,” you ordered. 

  
“But, I,” he looked back at the shattered glass of his truck’s window and then to you, “I . . . Shouldn’t I . . .”

  
“Kid, go, now!” you commanded in a more domineering tone. 

  
Daryn whimpered and scurried to climb into his vehicle. He quickly turned over the engine, backed up and peeled out of the parking lot. Once he was out of sight, you nodded towards the factor, “All right, let’s go kill a God.”

  
The alarm system was surprisingly easy to override and once you two were inside the factory, you set about looking for the freezer unit (Y/N) had described to Sam. After after fifteen minutes of searching, you found one that was closed off by two orange and white striped roadblocks with posters warning of a “coolant leak”. 

  
You and Sam cautiously entered the freezer and the bitter arctic air immediately sent white hot chills up your arms and down your spine. The air burned your lungs and came out as white clouds of smoke. You surveyed the considerably small room and saw several grey, metallic shelves that housed containers filled with various chunks of beef. Several slabs of of meat hung in a row off to your right, waiting to be cut down into more manageable sections. It appeared that this area connected to another much larger room in the back. As your eyes continued to glance around your surroundings, you spotted a dead, frozen body on the floor near the entrance to the second room. 

  
You pointed to the corpse, “Looks like we found Jarrod.”

  
Sam nodded silently just as you heard hooves stomping against the cold, hard concentrate floor. The sound got closer and closer until you finally saw a tall, dark shadow with two horns even larger than the ones on Pete’s mask standing behind the curtain. You watched in horror as it growled and pulled Jarrod’s body out of sight. Your stomach did backflips when a nauseating crunching sound bounced off the walls as the monster consumed its meal. 

  
“Come on out you son of a bitch!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. 

  
“What are you doing, are you crazy?” Sam asked in hushed tones. 

  
“We got the upper hand here and I’m not about to go chasing after it. That thing can come out here.”

  
You heard the creature snarl, so you aimed the Colt in front of you and called out again, “Come on you oversized billy goat! Two free meals just waiting for ya!”

Moloch’s primal growl tore through the freezer as it strode slowly and confidently through the strips of sheer, white plastic curtain separating the two rooms. It took a few steps forward and when you had a clear shot, you pulled the trigger, firing a bullet from the Colt directly at him and tearing a hole clean through his chest. A bright, yellow white light shined out and electricity crackled and radiated outward from the wound. Moloch roared out in agony before melting and splattering to the ground in a puddle of dark ooze. 

  
You held the end of the Colt up to your lips and blew, “Clean up on aisle three,” you said with a little chuckle. Sam shook his head slowly and you smiled with pride at your joke before saying, “All right, let’s call the sheriff.”

  
Half an hour later, Barrett had arrived and, while he was shocked and taken off guard by the scene in front of him, he wasn’t surprised that his brother had gone off the reservation. He thanked you for taking care of the situation. Sam asked if he wanted some help cleaning up the mess, but Barrett shook his head, “I’ll take care of it. It’s on me. This is my legacy.”

  
That’s all you needed to hear before you were practically pushing Sam out the door and into Baby. The two of you checked out of the hotel and decided to drive a few hours before stopping for the night so you could get some distance between yourself and Tomahawk. You pulled over for a few hours sleep at a motel just off the highway and eventually arrived back at the bunker early the next evening. 

  
You walked in and were surprised to hear your mother and her laughing so close to you. They were seated at the chess table at the top of the crow’s nest, engrossed in a friendly game. Your mother waved, “Hey boys, welcome home. I’m teaching (Y/N) here how to play chess.”

  
Your girl turned around and gave Sam a big smile, before pursing her lips and nodding in your direction. You smiled at your mother and watched as Sam greeted them both with a hug while you silently turned and made your way down the winding staircase. Your brother quickly caught up to you and the girls continued their game. You plopped your bag onto the war room table and headed into the library to grab a couple of beers out of the mini refrigerator just off to the side of entryway. 

  
You pulled two beers out and sat down at the first table, passing a drink to Sam, “Next time you hear me say we’re messed up, remind me we could be psycho goat people.”

  
Sam laughed, “That’s true.”

  
“You know, I was thinking about what Bishop said. About . . . what do you think our legacy’s gonna be?” Sam shook his head, not quite understanding what you were getting at, so you went on to further explain, “When we’re gone, I mean, after all the stuff we’ve done, you think folks will remember us? You know like a hundred years from now?”

  
“No,” Sam answered bluntly. 

  
His response deflated your ego, “Oh, that’s nice.”

  
Sam scoffed and tried to backpedal, “Well, I mean . . . we’re not exactly the type of people they write about in history books, you know?”

  
You titled your head to the side in agreement, “Mmm.”

  
“But, the people we’ve saved, they’re our legacy. And they’ll remember us and then I guess we’ll eventually fade away too. That’s fine because we left the world better than we found it, you know?”

  
You glanced around the library, “I wonder what’s gonna happen to this place. After we’re gone. You think some hunter is gonna move in, keep fightin’ the fight?”

  
“Yeah, I hope so.”

  
“Yeah, me too.”

  
You looked at the table in front of you and a lightbulb lit up in you head. You pulled out your pocket knife and clicked it open. You sat down your beer, learned forward and started to carve your initials into the antique wooden table.

  
“What are you doing?” Sam asked calmly. 

  
You finished scratching your initials into the table, just like you had done in the back dash of the Impala when you and Sam were just kids. You flipped the knife in your hand before passing it to your little brother, “Leaving our mark. Here, you do the same.”

  
Sam smiled, accepted the knife and happily started to deface the furniture with his own initials. Once he was done, he blew forcefully, sending the excess wood shavings scattering across the floor. Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention and you realized that your mother and her were standing in the entryway. 

  
Your girl smiled fondly, “Nice. Looks good.”

  
Sam returned her smile while you bit your lip to avoid grinning at her. She giggled to herself before commenting, “By the way, people will know who you guys are.” You couldn’t help but to look at her with curiosity, nonverbally asking her what she meant. She went on to explain, “Remember, there’s always the ‘_Winchester Gospels_’? The ‘_Supernatural_’ books by Chuck Shirley, aka God?”

  
You and Sam groaned in realization, but he was the one to speak, “Yeah, thanks for reminding us. 

  
Your mother spoke up, “So, um, we are getting a little bit stir crazy and hungry. We were thinking about running into town and picking up dinner.”

  
“We were maybe gonna get some pizza,” you girl added, “Any requests?”

  
“Thanks guys,” Sam said, “I’ll take a veggie pizza and a side salad.”

  
“Of course you will,” she replied.

  
“Dean? Any special requests?” your mother asked. 

  
“Nah, I got all I need right here,” you answered before taking a swig of your beer.

  
(Y/N) huffed, “Winchester, you gotta eat. I know you must be starving.”

  
“Don’t worry about me, doll. I’ll eat,” you responded snarkily. 

  
“Fine. We’ll be back soon,” she said before turning around and heading towards the stairs. 

  
Your mother gave you a disapprovingly look before turning around and following (Y/N) out of the bunker. As she left, you couldn’t help but to watch her go and wonder just how much longer you could pretend to mad at her before your pride dissipated and you let yourself open up to the concept that she just might be right about Jack. Even though she was never more than fifty feet away from you in the bunker, it felt like she was thousands of miles away. You’d never admit this out loud to anyone, but you really, really missed her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No cliffhanger this time, who am I? 😉  
I have a very busy week next week so it will probably be a hot minute before the next update, so I didn’t want to leave you in suspense too long! Can’t wait to hear any feedback you wish to leave and I look forward to posting the next chapter. Love you all! 🤗 😘


	42. Boiling Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel returns from heaven and learns about the secret you’ve been keeping from everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! Hope everyone is staying safe (and sane) during this very weird time in our society. Hopefully my story can let you escape reality for a brief moment and provide some entertainment. Thanks for everyone that continues to comment! I love hearing your feedback and any theories you have about upcoming events. 😊

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since you had touched Dean. Three weeks since you had felt his lips pressed on yours, since he had absentmindedly caressed your leg while the two of you ate dinner, since you stroked his hair as the two of you lay in bed in post coital bliss, giggling and engaged in pillow talk before falling asleep. Well, to be exact, it had been three weeks, two days and eighteen hours. But, whatever, it’s not like you were keeping track of it or anything. Right?

“_Yeah right,_” you inner self mused, rolling her eyes.

You sighed heavily and sat down in a chair at the library table that was stacked high with papers from the British Men of Letters’ archive. Sam had already retired for the evening, saying that his vision was going blurry and he couldn’t possibly stare at another memo or report.

The night that Sam and Dean returned from hunting Moloch, Dean had headed off to bed early, refusing to join you, his mother and brother for dinner. You and Mary had filled in the more reasonable Winchester brother on the papers and weapons you had acquired from the Brits and Sam, unsurprisingly, had gotten a a nerd-on right away. He immediately wanted to get ahold of the collection and see what information he could gather through his own research.

Later that same night, you were having trouble falling asleep, so you quietly snuck down to the kitchen for some leftover pizza and were shocked to find that most of it was missing. You chuckled to yourself as you imagined Dean sneaking out of his room and slinking down to the refrigerator to grab some leftovers when no one was watching.

“_Stubborn Idjit._”

A few days passed as you, Mary and Sam worked hard to finish organizing everything and at the end of the week, Mary said she was getting stir crazy. A fellow hunter friend of hers, Wally, happened to have a lead on a nest of vampires and he had invited her along for the hunt. You could tell Mary was doing her best to be a mother to the boys, and they were closer than they had been on the show, but she was a hunter at heart and needed to be on the road. Shortly after that, Sam had decided it would be best to scan everything into the virtual archives so you could access the information anytime you needed it. Hence, why you found yourself still scanning document after document after document in the library well past midnight this Wednesday evening.

You and Dean had yet to speak about the elephant in the room, mostly because he was doing his best to avoid any chance at interacting with you. He was either held up in his room or disappearing on a case by himself for a day or two. You had tried to strike up a conversation or two with Sam about how his brother was doing, but he refused to be the conduit between you and Dean, claiming he was “Switzerland” in this scenario. So, that’s why you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard familiar heavy footsteps approach the library just before Dean called out, “Come on Sam, you need some sleep . . .”

You whipped your head up from your seated position and saw that Dean was just as surprised to see you. You shrugged your shoulders as the scanner hummed quietly in the background, “Sorry, it’s just me. I mean, I can understand how Sam looks feminine from the back with his long, luscious locks, but nope, it’s just me. Scanning away.”

Dean let a small chuckle escape his mouth before he sucked in his lower lip, stifling his amusement. You took a brief moment to assess him and noticed he looked like he had lost a little weight. There was a new cut above his left eyebrow and a bruise across his right cheekbone. You looked away, “Anyway, Sam went to bed about an hour ago.”

Dean slowly approached your table, tucking one hand into the front pocket of his jeans and reaching another one out to lazily flip through the pile of papers you were working on. He spoke softly, “Yeah, Sammy told me how you stole the Brit’s stuff. Nice move.”

“_Wow, an actually freakin’ compliment. Color me surprised._”

You let your eyes flicker to him and your gaze unconsciously lingered on his torso. His black t-shirt clung to his chest, the sleeves of your favorite, dark red, button up rolled up just above his elbows. You looked up, daring to make eye contact and joked, “Yeah, I’m a regular Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich English pricks and giving their loot to us poor Americans.”

Dean gave you a half smile, the corner of his lips pulling up slightly before he coughed in an effort to cover up his reaction. You took a few papers off the pile and continued to scan. Dean said nothing, but continued to stand mere inches from you. You were biting your tongue, doing your best to hold down the word vomit that threatened to come flooding out at any second. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but you were tired of beating a dead horse and didn’t want to push him. If he was going to speak to you and forgive you, it needed to be on his own terms, without any outside manipulation.

The library was silent except for the shuffling of papers, your occasional yawn or Dean’s tongue clicking in his mouth as he skimmed the pages. After a few more minutes, he turned and started to walk away. Unintentionally, you called out, “Hey Winchester,” still refusing to say his name as he had requested almost a month ago.

He stopped and turned on his heels. He leaned towards you, like he wanted to come back, but stayed glued to his spot. He looked at you expectantly, “Yeah?”

“I, um . . . Night,” you replied with a raspy voice and a small smile.

Dean nodded his head quickly and turned away, exiting the library. But you didn’t see him pacing up and down the hallway for nearly five minutes, debating whether to turn around and come back and talk to you or leave you in peace for the night. You didn’t see how he ran his hand through his hair in frustration or how he punched the wall, leaving purple bruises and a few fresh cuts on his knuckles, before he gave up fighting with himself and retreated to his room.

After having a cordial, albeit short, conversation with him, it was impossible to think about anything else. You had scanned the same document four times and just couldn’t get back into a working mode, so you decided to turn in for the night. The next morning, you allowed yourself to sleep in and didn’t come out of your room until almost 10am. You threw on a pair of dark grey yoga pants, navy green tank and one of your black and grey stripped flannels before traipsing back to the library to continue your menial task.

You were caught off guard when you stepped into the war room and saw Sam sitting bent over the table in defeat with piles of books spread out before him and dates and numbers scribbled across the tabletop. His eyes were hollowed and he was wearing the same dark, long sleeve shirt he had been wearing the night before.

You came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “What ‘cha doing there Sam?”

He took in a deep breath and sighed, “I couldn’t sleep last night. I keep thinking about Jack and wondering just how long we have until he was born.”

“Uh-huh, I see,” you replied, shaking your head at Sam’s incessant worrying.

“I tossed and turned for a few hours, then came back down here and started reading up on nephilim. It doesn’t look like they need nine months like normal humans and since Kelly got pregnant sometime in December,” he held up his black, dry erase marker against the table and tapped the “18” he had circled, “it looks like Jack will be born around . . .”

You sat down beside him and held up a hand, stopping him, “Wait. Let me guess. May 18th?”

Sam did a double take, “Yeah, actually.”

You patted his head like a puppy, “Sam, Sam, Sam. You should’ve just asked me.”

“You knew? How could you possibly know that specific date?”

You chuckled, “Well, on the show, you actually did figure it out and I saw that part. But, it was very memorable because the season finale that year actually aired on May 18th, which was pretty poetic in my mind.”

Sam shook his head and smiled, “So, all this work was for nothing then?”

“Sorry. Looks like I gotta work on teaching you those three special words. See, if you Winchesters would just admit that I’m right, it could save you so much time and pain,” you advised with a wink before chuckling.

Sam laughed too, which is perhaps why you didn’t hear Dean approach you from behind. He came around Sam’s other side and whistled, “Woah. What’s up beautiful mind?”

Sam turned to Dean, “Uh, well . . . um . . . I actually was working out when Jack might be born . . .”

“You mean lil’ Lucifer?” Dean asked.

You huffed, “Winchester . . . .”

Sam held up one hand towards you and one towards his brother, stopping the inevitable fight between you two. Once he realized you two weren’t going to argue, he spoke again, “Anyway, I concluded he’d be born around May 18th and (Y/N) confirmed it.”

“So, we have about a month until Kelly pops,” Dean said.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be fine,” you commented.

“Oh, I’m not worried about her,” Dean replied angrily, “I’m worried about half the planet the kid’s gonna torch if we don’t get to her in time.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could say anything else, the harsh, metallic creak of the bunker door opening grabbed everyone’s attention. You beamed from ear to ear when you saw that your favorite blue eyed, angel in a trench coat had arrived. You waved to him, “Cas, long time no see.”

Cas walked slowly to the railing and looked down. His face was solemn, “Hello.”

“Hey, you’re all right. Where’ve you been?” Sam asked as Cas descended the staircase.

Dean approached Cas, but stayed back several feet, “Let me rephrase that for Sam. Where the _hell_ have you been? And why have you ignored our calls. Even she’s tried to contact you through angel radio.”

“Yeah, and don’t give us them that BS line about reception being poor,” you noted.

Cas looked at you curiously, “How . . . How did you know I was going to say that.”

Dean smiled sarcastically, “Oh yeah, there’s quite a lot you missed since you’ve been gone, which we would have filled you in on had you picked up the damn phone!”

Cas looked between you and Dean, obviously sensing the tension between you two, “I was in heaven, working with the angels. When I saw Dagon had captured Kelly, I thought they could help. I wasn’t sure how quickly (Y/N)’s powers would develop.”

“And?” Sam asked hopefully.

Cas shook his head in disappointment, “Nothing.”

Sam nodded, “Well at least you’re back. We’re all glad you’re back.”

Dean looked at Sam like he had been betrayed, “Really? No, no I’m sorry. Okay, ‘cause while you were striking out in heaven, we had a shot at Dagon and we lost.”

Cas looked at you, “You weren’t strong enough to kill her?”

Dean spoke up before you could, “Oh, no. No she was. It gets better! Go ahead, sweetheart, tell him.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at hearing Dean accidentally slip and call you one of his terms of endearment. You weren’t sure if he noticed too, but if he did, he was pretending like nothing had happened. You stood up from your chair and approached Castiel. You took one of his hands and sandwiched it in between yours, “Cas,” you smiled softly, “Remember all those months ago when you asked me to have faith in you about the secret you were keeping?”

“Yes . . .” he answered tentatively.

“And I asked you if would repay the same favor one day. That you would have faith in me and believe me if I ever had to keep a big secret from you. Remember?”

“Yes . . .”

“Today is that day.”

“(Y/N), what are you saying?”

“Yeah, go ahead and spit it out,” Dean taunted from behind you.

You turned your head briefly to give him a bitchface, effectively silencing him, before returning your attention back to the angel in front of you, “Cas . . . I . . . I knew that Lucifer was going to spawn a child.”

You felt him tense under your touch, but he didn’t try to move away, “What . . . What do you mean?”

“I knew that Lucifer was going to take over the President and get Kelly pregnant.”

“And you didn’t stop it? Why?”

You rubbed his hand in reassurance, “Because, Cas, her son, Jack, he’s going to be a gift to this world. He will bring the universe to its feet,” you replied, mimicking what Kelly would soon tell Castiel herself.

The angel finally pulled himself from your grip and looked over your shoulder to Sam and Dean, “What do you two think about this?”

“Oh me?” Dean said, “I’m being rational and believe that she is fucking insane. Sammy, on the other hand, must be taking the same crazy pills, because he’s leaning towards believing her.”

“I just, I think we should be open to every possible outcome,” Sam replied defensively.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean pleaded, “Tell me you’re on my side.”

Cas looked torn as his gaze wondered back and forth between you and Dean, his eyes finally landing on your soulmate, “Dean, maybe she’s right? I don’t know, I mean, remember, her kind is trustworthy.”

Dean threw up his hands, exasperated, “I, you . . . she . . . ,” he hung his head and shook it vigorously before turning away and storming out of the room, “Whatever. Welcome back, glad you’re safe.”

Over the next half hour, you brought Cas up to speed on everything that he had missed out on, from Dagon to the British Men of Letters and your own civil war with Dean. Unsurprising, Cas had a lot of questions about Jack and the future, which you answered as best as you could without giving too much away. After Sam excused himself to get a few hours of sleep, Cas whispered, “So, do you know why I’m really here?”

You nodded your head, “Mmhmm. The Colt, right?”

“Are you going to stop me?”

You leaned back in the library chair, where you and Cas had moved to continue your conversation, “Nope.”

“Why not? You do know what I intend to do with it.”

“Yeah, I do. Things are going exactly as they need to.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see Cas, you have to see something. Once you do, you won’t have any doubts about Jack. Just, follow your instincts and everything will be fine.”

Cas sighed heavily, “(Y/N), you do realize, this is the son of Lucifer you are defending.”

“Cas, just because Lucifer is his father, doesn’t mean he will be bad. I believe nobody is born evil. Plus, Jack is half Kelly’s too. If me being a venatrix isn’t enough to convince you, think about how much I care for Sam and Dean and the fact that I was willing to risk their trust to save this child.”

Cas shook his head and stared at you contemplatively as you continued to speak, “I wouldn’t do that lightly. So, like I said, just trust your instincts. You don’t have to believe me now, just go about your business and I’ll see you soon.”

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

You were sitting at your desk, marinating in your anger as you monitored the multiple programs running on your laptop, searching for any sign of Kelly or Dagon. If you could only get your hands on Kelly, it would give you some sense of control in this hurricane of uncertainty. You rubbed the back of your neck in frustration, trying in vain to loosen up your tense muscles when there was a knock on your closed door. You chose not to answer or open it, but the intruder of your solitude entered anyway. You didn’t look directly at him, but from the corner of your eye, you could see Cas standing in the doorway like a puppy that had been reprimanded.

“Sorry, Dean,” he apologized in a gruff voice as he slowly approached the desk, “Um . . . I just wanted to return this,” he said pulling a black cassette out of his coat with a handwritten label that read “_Dean’s top 13 Zepp Traxx_”. He reached out and sat the cassette on the very edge of the desk, obviously trying to stay as far away as possible.

You grabbed it without even looking up from the computer and held it out to him, speaking with no emotion, “It’s a gift. You keep those.”

Cas stood there a moment before taking the cassette back from you, continuing to make sure he avoided any physical contact, “Oh . . .”

You propped your elbows on the desk and as Cas started to leave, you couldn’t help but to say, “Cas, you can’t . . . with everything that’s going on, you can’t just go dark like that. We didn’t know what happened to you and we were worried. Plus, with all this craziness with (Y/N), we . . . we could’ve . . . we needed a little guidance. Some backup.”

Cas’ voice was filled with regret, “Well, I didn’t mean to add to your distress. Dean, I just, I wanted . . . I _needed_ to come back with a win for you and Sam and (Y/N).”

You finally swiveled your chair around towards your best friend and asked in desperation, “You think you’re the only one rolling snake eyes here?” Cas shook his head in confusion, so you continued to explain, “We had her. _Twice_. We had her and because of me and my trust in my girl, she got away. (Y/N) _let_ her get away on purpose so that the devil’s offspring could be born. Cas, she’s lied to me for months and I didn’t see it coming. She could still stop it, but she is absolutely convinced that this kid is going to be good for the Earth because of some fucking TV show.”

“And what would you do if you found her again?” Cas asked bitterly, “Could you kill an innocent? Could you kill Kelly and her child, knowing just how much (Y/N) wants to protect them?”

You looked at Cas for several moments before breaking eye contact and letting your gaze roam around the room, “I . . . we can find a better way. Maybe there’s another option. Something we can do.”

“We?” Cas questioned hopefully.

You stood up and pointed back and forth to him and yourself, “Yes, dumbass, we. Now that you’re back, let’s go team ‘Free Will’.”

“What about (Y/N)?”

You ran a hand down your face, “I’m still working through that. I . . . I need a beer,” you said as you walked past him to seek out your best, but definitely not healthiest, coping mechanism that would help numb the ache in your chest.

You quarantined yourself in your room for the rest of the night with Johnny Walker and David Yaeger to keep you company. You don’t remember what time it was, but eventually you fell asleep or maybe you passed out. You awoke the next morning with a jackhammer banging against your temple. You took a few ibuprofen, hoping to ease the ache and reached under your pillow to clean the Colt like you had done every morning for the past week.

Your snaked your hand under the cool pillow, but found nothing. Your heart jumped in your chest, leading you to immediately leap out of bed, your hangover temporarily forgotten. You threw your pillow across the room, but the Colt wasn’t there. You desperately flung your mattress off the frame, scouring the underside of your bed, but still . . . nothing.

You ran out of your room, calling out, “Sam! Cas!” repeatedly as you headed to the library, hoping to find someone. As you neared the heart of the bunker, you heard your brother and (Y/N) laughing from the kitchen. You stormed in and saw Sam and your girl sitting at the table, with your brother facing you. He must’ve seen the panic in your eyes, because he immediately pushed his bowl of cereal to the side, “Dean, what’s wrong?”

“Where’s Cas?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. I haven’t seen him this morning. Have you?” he asked looking towards your girl.

“No, I haven’t seen him this morning,” she replied nonchalantly.

“Dean, what’s wrong? Why are you looking for Cas?” Sam queried.

“The Colt,” you answered, “It’s gone and unless either of you have it, Cas robbed us.”

Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket and stepped aside, “Let me see if I can reach him.”

She finally turned around in her seat to face you, “Winchester, it’s gonna be okay.”

“Wait . . . did you know about this too? Knew he was gonna take the Colt?”

“Yes, but don’t worry, we’ll get it back.”

Rage ignited deep in your core, but before you could react, you heard Sam leaving a voicemail and when he hung up, you asked, “Let me guess . . . no answer?”

Sam shook his head, “I mean, how did Cas get the Colt out of the safe in the first place?” You looked away sheepishly and Sam sighed heavily, “Dean, you . . . you put the Colt back in the safe, right? Dean?”

“It was under my pillow. I like to keep it close. Look, it’s not my fault he came into my room and played me.”

“He played us both,” Sam noted, trying to take some of the blame off of you.

You pointed a finger at her, “And she played us both. She could’ve stopped it, but she let him waltz right in and take away the one weapon we’ve been searching for, for nearly a decade!”

“Guys, Cas needs to do this,” she stated calmly.

“Do what? What does he need to do?” you yelped, eyes narrowing in on hers.

“He’s going to kill Dagon,” she responded.

“Without any backup?” you asked.

“Wait . . . he knows where Dagon and Kelly are at?” Sam questioned in disbelief.

She nodded, “Yes, everything is going exactly as it needs to.”

“We gotta found him,” you announced, refusing to sit around and wait for some destiny bull crap to play out while you stayed on the sidelines.

“Lucky for you,” Sam said, “I installed a tracking app on his phone. We can track him down using that.”

“Good. Great,” you snapped, “We’ll make sure he doesn’t get himself killed and then I’m kicking his feathered ass for stealing from me. Meet me in the car in twenty.”

A little while later, you were carrying your duffel towards the garage. You heard two voices speaking in hushed tones on the other side of the door. You reached out, turned the knob and were taken aback to find both Sam and her standing by the Impala. They both quit speaking as soon as they saw you. She crossed her arms, facing you with determination in her eyes.

You took several long strides across the room, wagging your finger, “Oh no. Hell no! You’re not coming with us.”

“Oh, hell yes I am Winchester,” she retorted.

“No, you’re not!” you yelled back at her.

She pointed a finger at you, “As I’ve said before, you are not my father and I’m not asking permission. I have a role to play in this and I need to be there.”

“I said no!”

“Tough!”

Sam stood in between the two of you, “Enough! You two can argue later, but for now, let’s work together. We’re wasting time. We need to find Cas and Kelly as soon as possible.”

“I agree,” she concurred.

You smacked Sam’s hand away and marched away in defeat, throwing your bag into the open trunk before slamming it shut, “Whoever’s going better get in the car, because we’re leaving now!”

The next several hours in the car were silent except for your music and Sam’s clicking away on his laptop, looking up God knows what. The tension was thick, almost a palpable force that you could feel crushing down on your chest. You did your best not to look back at her in the rear view mirror, but you couldn’t help to check up on her occasionally. Each time, she was either staring out the window or had her eyes closed, head bopping along to whatever song she was playing through her headphones. The miles passed slowly, but eventually you three made it to the “North Point Motel” where Cas was supposedly at. You bribed the desk clerk and found out which room he was staying in. You three strolled to his room and you forcefully knocked on his door.

Cas opened up, with the Colt pointed at you. Once he realized who was knocking, he lowered the gun. You looked at it, then him and growled, “Yeah, that’s mine,” before barging in, pinning him up against the wall, “What the hell are you thinking, huh?”

“Dean,” Sam called out from behind you.

“What,” you replied in frustration, turning around and following Sam’s gaze. There, coming out of the bathroom was a very pregnant Kelly Kline.

(Y/N) leaped toward her, pulling her in for a hug, “Kelly! How are you? You’re practically glowing.”

Kelly giggled and rubbed her pregnant stomach, “Yeah, sure. Tell that to my swollen ankles, uncontrollable gas and bladder the size of a golf ball.”

You released Cas from the wall and strode over to be closer to Kelly. Cas soon joined you, “How did you find us?”

You explained, “Well, while you were scamming me for the Colt, Sam put a tracking app on your phone.”

The five of you circled up to speak and your girl looked to Cas, “So, I see you found Dagon and saved Kelly.”

“Yeah,” Cas replied solemnly, almost ashamed.

You snatched the Colt out of Cas’ hand and tucked it into your jacket, “So, did you kill her?”

He shook his head and you and Sam huffed in frustration, but Cas responded defensively, “She’s difficulty to kill, okay?”

Sam looked to (Y/N), “I thought you said he was going to kill her.”

“He will,” she noted, “All in good time. But, Cas, what are you doing here at this motel? Aren’t you taking Kelly to heaven?”

You did a double take, “Wait, you’re taking Kelly to the sandbox?”

Cas looked defeated, “Yes I, I am actually. I’ve decided that this needs to end once and for all. I’m sorry (Y/N). It’s just too great a risk.”

“So, why are you here still?” Sam queried.

“Well, I needed to speak to Joshua to figure out the plan and I sense that it would be safer to wait until nightfall to take Kelly to Heaven.”

You clicked your tongue against your cheek and nodded towards your girl, “And you? You’re okay with this plan?”

She nodded, “Mmhmm, seems good to me.”

“You do realize this means she’ll die right?”

She winked, “Theoretically.”

“Kelly, come on, you don’t really want to do this do you? What if, what if there was another way,” Sam suggested.

“What are you talking about?” Cas asked.

Sam looked guiltily towards (Y/N) before answering, “Well, see, Dean and I, we’ve been discussing other options. What if Cas did for Kelly what he did with me and Gadreel? The grace extraction? We can take the grace from the baby, from the nephilim and then he just becomes . . .”

“Human,” Cas said, finishing Sam’s sentence.

“Human,” Sam continued, “Exactly.”

You could see Kelly and your girl both shaking their heads slowly, but neither said anything.

“Wait a minute, that extraction, it nearly killed you,” Cas exclaimed

“Yeah, but it didn’t.”

“Because we didn’t finish it. We don’t even know if this would work. Wait, would it work?” Cas asked looking to (Y/N).

Before she could answer Kelly spoke up and started to walk out of the motel room, “No, no, I’m not doing that.”

The rest of you quickly followed after her, with Sam the closest. He called out, “Hey Kelly. Kelly, hey, wait, wait. Wait a second,” before finally catching her by the arm and gently turning her around to try and reason with her, “Look. We can’t imagine what you’ve been through, okay, but we’ve found another way. Let’s give it a shot.”

“I’m going with Castiel,” Kelly asserted.

“If you go with Cas, you die. Your baby dies.”

“And if I go with you, you take away the thing that makes him special.”

“How does that matter if you’re both dead?”

“That’s the only thing that matters,” she proclaimed, smiling at (Y/N).

You couldn’t help but to laugh at the insanity of it all, “Okay, both of these chicks have lost their mind.”

Sam looked around nervously, “Until we figure something out, can we take this conversation elsewhere? We’re kind of sitting ducks out here.”

“Sams right,” you agreed, “Why don’t we get in the Impala, head back to the bunker and we’ll talk. We’ll figure out our own plan since (Y/N) here won’t tell us what the damn plan is.”

“Sounds good to me,” she replied smugly.

“Oh, well I’m so glad to have your approval,” you replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Cas nodded his head and started to lead Kelly by the arm towards Baby, “Okay, we’ll talk.”

(Y/N) and Sam started to follow after, but you rushed past them to block their path, “Nu-uh. You are going to tell us once and for all what’s going to happen before we leave.”

She cocked her hip and crossed her arms, “Oh, is that so?”

“Dean. Locked,” Cas shouted out from behind you. You grabbed your keys out of your jacket pocket and tossed them to him so that he and Kelly could get in the car.

For a moment, you were distracted as her soft, pink tongue wet her lips before she spoke, “Listen do you want Dagon dead or not?”

You couldn’t help that you were suddenly fantasizing about her on her knees in front of you. Those plump lips wrapped around you, her tongue pressing up on the underside of your cock.

“Dean!” Sam yelled to get your attention.

You shook your head and answered her question, “Yeah, yes, yes. Of course I want Dagon dead. But that’s something you could easily do instead of playing these games.”

“And you, _Winchester_, could easily quit being a dick to me, but here we are,” she retorted flourishing her hands out in front of her. “Look, after tonight, we should have smooth sailing for a while. But right now . . .”

Her sentence was cut off by the sound of Baby’s engine starting up. You turned around just in time to see that Kelly had somehow managed to get ahold of the keys and slid over to the driver’s seat. She shifted the car into gear and peeled out of the parking lot, with you and Sam chasing after her in vain, screaming at her to stop. Kelly rounded the corner, disappearing out of sight. You immediately turned on your heels and growled in (Y/N)’s face, “You let her steal Baby?!”

She placed a hand on your chest to hold you back and the unexpected contact made you shiver. She looked at you calmly, “Baby will be fine.”

You stepped back, so you wouldn’t be affected by her touch, “She stole my car!”

“She’s going to heaven!”

“Yeah, well I’m about two seconds from sending you there myself!”

Instead of being hurt, she set her jaw and cried out, “Oh yeah!? Well, come on Winchester! Give me your best shot!!”

You screamed in her face before turning away furiously, hands balled into fists. Sam, still trying to be the voice of reason, suggested, “Come on, let’s just find another car. We can catch up to them.”

“Fine,” you replied, “But she is not coming with us. Over my goddamn dead body!”

“FINE!” she shouted at the top of her lungs before disappearing out of sight.

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

“FINE!” you shrieked, before making yourself invisible to the boys. Luckily, you had anticipated this exact situation where you would not need to be seen and you had become a pro at becoming the invisible man . . . well, woman. You decided it would be best to ride along with Cas and Kelly just to make sure everything was on track. However, before taking off, you made sure to leave an inconspicuous truck in the corner of the parking lot that just happened to have its doors unlocked, keys over the visor, for Sam and Dean to “steal”.

With your power, you didn’t need a tracking app to find Cas, you could simply hone in on his energy. So, once you made sure Sam and Dean were set up with their transportation, you flew to the Impala, landing in the front seat, sitting sideways so as to avoid Cas’ touch in case he leaned forward. You decided to remain out of sight, unless you were absolutely needed. You’d had it up to here with answering questions and didn’t want Dagon to get scared and run away if she figured out that you were immune to her powers.

It appeared that you had dropped in while they were mid conversation. Castiel, as you had predicted, was sitting in the middle of the back seat, leaned forward. He turned towards Kelly, “Okay, so why are you doing this?”

Kelly kept her eyes on the road ahead, speeding towards her destiny, “Because he chose you, Castiel. When you put your hand on my stomach, I heard him. He spoke to me. He told me that even if it seems scary, if I just went to the gate . . . If I just followed your plan, that you would make sure he was born.”

Cas licked his lips and turned his head side to side, his face pensive, as Kelly continued to explain her rationale, “Sam and Dean, they want to take away his powers because they’re scared. But I’m not. And neither is (Y/N).”

Cas threw his hands up in the air, “Kelly, you . . . ”

“You asked me, who would protect him, guide him when I’m gone. I know how,” Kelly said with unwavering certainty, “It’s you. And I’m sure (Y/N) will be there to help too. She believes in this child as much as, maybe even more, than I do.”

“Me? That’s, I . . . I am not someone you should put your faith in Kelly,” Cas replied shaking his head, “I couldn’t kill Dagon back there and I got two of my men killed. I’ve betrayed my friends, my family . . . ”

“Before all of this happened, I was a cut-rate political flack in an embarrassingly unprofessional relationship with my boss. I don’t know why its me or you, but I know we are destined for something here. Something great.”

“I wish I had your faith.”

“You will,” Kelly said reassuringly.

“_Yeah he will_,” you thought happily.

About an hour passed and during that time, the sun began to set and Cas gave Kelly directions to the sandbox. By the time you reached the playground, the stars had come out to light up the night sky. You silently transported yourself out of the car and stood a few yards back from the action. Kelly and Cas tentatively approached the gate. She observed the Enochian sigils traced into the sand, “This is it?”

Cas nodded his head, “This is it. Kelly, are you sure?”

She took a deep breath and nodded, “As long as you’re here, I know it’s gonna be okay.”

The light colored sand started to kick up into a whirlwind and bright, white lights emanated from the markings, accompanied by a high pitching ringing.

“_Oh shit, I forgot about another angel being here. Shit, shit, shit! What am I gonna do?!_”

Once the dust had settled, an attractive Caucasian male in his mid twenties appeared in the middle of the sandbox. His medium brown hair was swooped to one side, arms crossed in front of his chest that was covered by a dark grey knit sweater and a simple navy blue jacket.

The angel spoke softly, “Castiel, Kelly. It’s good to see you.”

Castiel greeted his brother, “Hello, Joshua.”

“_Joshua! He’s a good one too. Fuck me!_”

You knew you only had seconds to react, so as soon as Joshua stepped out of the box, you quickly ran forward and pulled him from his position in front of Kelly and Castiel, making him invisible with you. He looked at you, befuddled, but you held a finger to your lips, silencing him. He stared deeply into your eyes and must’ve realized what you were, because he immediately obeyed. Thankfully, you had acted just in time, because just mere milliseconds later, Dagon appeared where Joshua had been.

She, Kelly and Castiel all whipped their hands around in search of Joshua. Dagon was the first to speak, “What? Where did he go?”

Kelly and Cas were so overwhelmed with the sudden disappearance of Joshua and appearance of Dagon, that they had no answers for the Prince of Hell. When she saw they weren’t going to give her any new information, she continued to talk, “Oh well. One less angel to worry about.” She looked at Kelly in feigned fondness, “Hey girl. You two got so close! I mean, if I hand’t made it here at the last possible second . . . ,” she said with mock worry before turning smug, “J.K. Flipped your pal Kelvin ages ago. Then smoked him. I’ve been here for hours.”

Castiel stepped in front of Kelly, brandishing his angel blade, “You stay away from her,” he warned in a gruff voice.

Dagon assessed the situation, “What? No Colt? Wait . . . you don’t even have it anymore? Hilarious!”

Castiel lunged forward to stab Dagon, but she easily grabbed his hand, twisting his arm and knocking his blade to the ground. Kelly stood back in fear and Joshua tried to rush to his brother’s aide, but you held him back, whispering, “Joshua, just wait. It’ll be okay, I promise.” You could tell the angel was fighting every instinct in his body to protect Castiel, but for whatever reason, he listened and remained hidden with you.

Dagon elbowed Cas in the chin and the two began to fight, trading blows, with Dagon easily gaining the upper hands as she kneed him repeatedly in the chest before attacking his face with a barrage of heavy punches. The sound of flesh beating against flesh echoed across the playground that just hours ago was filled with the ringing of children’s laughter. Dagon landed one final blow across Castiel’s left cheek, knocking him to the cold, wet ground. He laid there, face bruised and bleeding, unable to move.

The Prince of Hell turned and spoke to Kelly, “Look at him, your angelic defender. You really thought _he_ was gonna save you? This sad, fluttering, aimless little moth?”

Kelly didn’t speak, only watched with sad eyes as Dagon turned back to the angel, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him off the ground. Castiel started to choke, straining to breathe as Dagon reared back her hand that was now glowing with a brilliant orange light. Just as she was about to strike Cas down, Dean and Sam pulled up in the truck that you had conveniently placed for them. Sam bolted out of the passenger’s seat, emptying his clip into her back to distract her from attacking Cas.

Dagon released Castiel, dropping him unceremoniously to the ground, and turned to march over towards Sam. She backhanded him, knocking him into a bench and shattering it into a million pieces. Dean wasn’t too far behind. He cocked the Colt, holding it out in front of him, aimed at Dagon’s chest. However, before he could fire, she disappeared and reappeared behind him. She brought down her elbow on his arm and you heard a sickening *_CRACK_* as she broke the radius bone in his forearm, procuring the Colt in the process.

Dean collapsed the ground in agony, but continued to stare up at Dagon in despair. She smiled smugly, assuming she had won. She held up the gun in front of her face, admiring it for a second, “Yeah, time to take this off the board.”

Dean reached out for the gun in vain as he saw she was about to destroy one of his favorite weapons. Before she could carry out her nefarious plan, you reached out your hand, pulling the Colt into invisibility with you. Dagon dropped her hands to the side, utterly flustered, “What is gong on around here?”

You saw everyone else searching the area for any clues as to who had stolen the Colt, but when no one appeared, they looked back to Dagon. She shook her head and stomped toward Kelly and Cas, who had managed to gather himself up off the ground and was now standing beside Kelly. Dagon yelped, “I’m tired of playing these games!”

Cas urged Kelly, “Run!”

But, as you knew she would, she grabbed Castiel’s hand and stood with him in solidarity against Dagon. The Prince of Hell came closer and closer, “Aw! Adorbs! But playtime is over. We’re leaving,” she commanded.

That’s when it happened, what you had been waiting for, for months. Kelly’s eyes lit up in a sparkling golden hue and she turned her head to Castiel. You watched as an electrical pulse traveled from Kelly’s hand, up Cas’ arm, neck and eventually to his face. His eyes sparkled with a luminescent silver light before turning gold, as Jack’s soul surged through him. Dagon reared back her hand once more, determined to destroy Cas once and for all.

“Cas!” Sam called out from the ground.

“No!” Dean screamed in fear.

However, just as Dagon thrust her hand forward, Cas reached up with his freehand, grabbing her by the forearm and halting her attack. The orange light flickered away and for the first time, she looked genuinely terrified. She glanced at her arm then Cas, “How . . .”

“Call it a miracle,” Cas declared triumphantly as black smoke started to sizzle from where he had made contact with the demon. He released her just as her jacket sleeve caught on fire. The flames quickly spread down her arm until her body was fully engulfed in the inferno and she was reduced to a pile of smoldering ash and jet black smoke.

Dean and Sam eventually stood up, meandering towards Kelly and Cas, who’s eyes had returned to their normal ocean blue color of his vessel. Dean held his broken arm protectively against his chest, “Cas?”

“What was that?” Sam asked.

“It was um, it was me, but it was also,” he glanced down at Kelly’s baby bump that she was rubbing lovingly, letting them know silently that Jack had helped kill Dagon. Cas saw that Dean had been injured. “You’re hurt,” he noted quietly before placing two fingers on his arm to heal him. Finally, Cas stood back to Kelly’s side, “Thank you for coming to fight for us.”

Dean stretched out his arm, testing to make sure it was healed before asking, “Are you okay?”

Except for the night when you came into your power, Cas looked more joyful than you had ever seen. A small smile ghosted across his face, “I am. I know now that this child must be born with all of his power.”

“Really?” Sam asked in surprise.

He nodded, “Yes. I see now and . . . (Y/N) was right all along. I understand her faith because I have it too now. I’ll watch over Kelly until Jack is born,” he announced as he and Kelly started to walk past the brothers.

“Wait a minute, hold on a second,” Sam protested.

Cas turned back round, “You have to trust me.”

Dean waved a hand out in front of him, “No, no, no. Wait. Okay, whatever that thing did to, we’re not gonna let you just walk away.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “That’s not gonna happen. We need to at least talk about this.”

Cas smiled apologetically and uttered, “Sorry,” before knocking Sam and Dean out with a touch of his hand.

Kelly and Cas started to walk away again, but before they could leave, you called out, “Cas! Wait a second!”

You made yourself and Joshua visible to them and they beamed ear to ear when they saw you. However, you took a quick second to give an order to the angel beside you, “Joshua, I need you to go back to heaven. Let them know that I said this nephilim is a good thing. Do not try to harm him. He’s protected by me.” You tapped his forehead, sending him back to deliver your message to the rest of the angels.

Cas looked stunned, “What was that?”

“I saved Joshua. I like him and Dagon was going to kill him. I just, I couldn’t let her kill another angel,” you confessed as you approached them.

“Wait . . . where did you come from? How did you do that?!” Kelly asked, puzzled.

“Oh,” you chuckled nervously, “Yeah, you haven’t heard about me, have you?”

“Heard what?”

You did not want to go over this again, “Let’s just say it’s a long ass story, but I found out I’m much more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Cas, maybe you can fill her in on the details later? But for now, you two should take that truck and get somewhere safe.”

Cas nodded, but wanted to know, “Have you been here the whole time?”

“I have. I had to make sure you saw it Cas.”

“Saw what?” Kelly asked.

“The future,” Cas replied, “Your son showed me the future.”

“So you believe me now?” you asked hopefully before reaching out to squeeze Kelly’s hand, “You believe us?”

“I do. I’m so sorry for ever doubting you.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay, Cas. It’s a lot to . . . ”

But you weren’t able to finish your thought, because a tingling warmth started to radiate up the hand that was holding Kelly’s and you realized that her eyes had once again were a sparkling golden hue. The blissful feeling shot up your arm, down your back and up your spine until you were drowning in so much euphoria that you could cry. You felt safe, protected and loved unconditionally. A disembodied voice whispered in your ear, “_mother_”, before the feeling dissipated and Kelly’s eyes returned to their normal shade.

A few stray tears escaped your eyes as Kelly stared at you joyously, “Looks like he’s picked you too.”

Your voice was shaky with emotion, “Me? Picked me for what?”

“(Y/N), I’m not going to survive this. Survive giving birth to him. But you? You’ll be here. You can help to protect and guide him alongside Castiel.”

Your heart dropped down into your stomach, “Kelly, no, no, no, no, no. I mean, yes, I’ll do whatever I can for him and for you too. Kelly, I promise I am going to use all of my powers to save you. He’s going to need a mother.”

Kelly squeezed your hand, “And he’ll have one.”

You couldn’t bear to argue with her, especially with how hopeful she was in this moment. But you were determined to save her and as God as your witness, you were going to do just that. If the surge that just rolled through you was any indication of how Jack felt about you, you knew that you were making the right decision and that all the sacrifices up to this point and afterwards were and would continue to be worth it. You pulled Kelly in for a tight hug and then couldn’t help but to give Cas one as well. While you held him close, you whispered in his ear, “Take care of our girl.”

You let him go and held out your hand, conjuring up one of your magical credit cards, “Here, take this so you don’t have to worry about money.”

They both smiled and started to walk away, but you had one more thought to share, “Hey, Kelly?”

She sat her hands on her stomach as she turned around to face you one last time, “Yeah?”

You chewed your lip nervously, “Um, so I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but screw it. Jack, he’s . . . he’s gonna grow up really fast. So don’t stress out about baby cribs or painting a nursery or diapers. He’s gonna go from an infant to a young adult pretty quick, so please make sure he has some clothes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. With everything he has ahead of him, he doesn’t have time to be an infant or a child.”

She nodded her head, “Good to know.”

“And, in the worst case scenario that something happens and I . . . I . . . ,” you struggled to keep your voice from breaking, “I’m unsuccessful with everything I want to do, Jack’s going to want to know about you. So, maybe take this time to take pictures or write or make videos about yourself. Tell him about your life and who you are. He loves you so much Kelly.”

Kelly wiped her eyes, “He does?”

“Yeah, he knows you’re a good person and he loves you with all of his heart.”

She rubbed her stomach, “Thanks (Y/N). Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

You smiled, “You’re welcome. Okay, go one you two crazy kids. Get out of here.”

The two finally climbed into the truck and Cas took off into the darkness. You wiped away any stray tears on your face and took in a deep breath before exhaling sharply. You made your way over to your Winchester boys and couldn’t help but to laugh at them passed out on the ground. You bent down and tapped their foreheads, transporting them into the Impala. Sure, you could have easily sent everyone back to the bunker, including Baby, but who were you to turn down a chance to drive your favorite car down the empty back roads, in the middle of a particularly beautiful night?

You fished the keys out of Dean’s pocket and fired up Baby. She roared to life and you half expected Dean to snap out of his sleep, but neither he nor Sam stirred. You shifted Baby into gear and turned the radio to one of your favorite stations as you pulled out of the playground and headed back to Kansas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No cliffhanger again? Who am I even?! 😉 So now Cas believes our Reader! *wipes brow in relief*.  
I had inspiration last week and came up with an idea for the next few chapters, which are going to be off canon. I want to follow the story as closely as possible, but I don’t want this tale to be only a “copy paste” job of the show, so I’m doing my best to throw in some originality. Hopefully you will like the surprises to come and continue to enjoy the journey. FYI - I am VERY excited to write these next few chapters.   
See you soon!  
🤗 😘


	43. Ten Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean work through the aftermath of your latest adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope everyone is staying safe and staying at home (if you can!). I’m sorry it’s been a week since my last post as I have been super busy and originally intended for this chapter and the next to be together. However, it was getting too long and I’m still working through the plot of the next chapter. So, I didn’t wanna leave you hanging too long. Hopefully you’ll forgive me after you read!

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
A sudden jolt smacked your head against something cold and hard. You threw your arms out in shock, your left hand making contact with something warm and soft. You rubbed your temple and grunted, “Son of a bitch,” just she chided you from your left, “Geez Winchester! Watch what you’re doing!”

  
You opened your eyes and took in your surroundings. The last thing you remembered, Cas had somehow managed to kill Dagon with no weapon, then he was running off with Kelly to who knows where. You sat up from your slouched position and saw that (Y/N) was driving the Impala with one hand on the wheel. Her left hand was rubbing a small bruise that was starting to form on her right, upper arm. It was still dark out, but the sun appeared to just be coming up over the horizon and a radio DJ was droning on in the background about today’s top headlines and the weather. You turned around and saw Sam was still sleeping soundly, sprawled out across the backseat. 

  
“What the hell is going on? Where are we? Where’s Cas?” you questioned angrily 

  
She rubbed her arm a few more times before returning her hand to the steering wheel, “We’re about fifteen minutes out from the bunker. Once Cas knocked you out, I got you in two in the car and started driving.”

  
You scoffed, “Oh and you think you can just drive my car whenever you want?”

  
She looked at you briefly before rolling her eyes, “Considering that A, I kept you and Sam from sleeping in a cold, dark, wet playground all night and two, I saved the Colt from being destroyed by Dagon, yeah I think I get a pass for tonight.”

  
“Pull over.”

  
She sneered, “What?”

  
“You heard me, pull over!” you demanded more forcefully. 

  
She pulled off to the side of the road and threw the car in park before looking at you, “Fine! I’ve been driving all night and I am way too tired to argue with you.”

  
You stared into her eyes, “Well, you gonna get out?”

  
“No. You can come around and I’ll scoot over.”

  
“Fine,” you said before exiting the Impala to walk around the front and assume your rightful position as driver. 

  
She grunted in frustration as you shut the door behind you and by the time you made your way around to the driver’s seat, she had slid over the black, leather bench seat and was pressed up against the passenger door. You put Baby in drive and took off back towards home, turning off the radio. You could tell she was fuming, mumbling her lips silently, arms cross and shaking her head occasionally. 

Despite the fact that you were still angry with her, curiosity got the better of you. You took in a deep breath and asked, “So, where’d you come from?”

  
“Kentucky,” she quipped. 

  
“That’s not what I mean.”

  
She shook her head, “Oh, now you wanna talk?”

  
“I wanna know what happened back there.”

  
She thought for a minute and then you saw a soft smile spread across her face as she spoke, “That was Jack, Winchester. Jack helped Cas save us all and kill Dagon. Jack showed Cas the future and, as he told you himself, he now realizes that I was right all along and that Jack needs to be born with all of his powers.”

  
“And what future exactly did baby Lucifer show him?”

  
She sighed heavily, “_Jack_. His name is _Jack_. And, that I don’t know.”

  
“So more lies, huh?”

  
She turned in her seat towards you, uncrossing her arms, “No, Winchester. I swear. I really don’t know what he showed Cas, because it was never revealed on the show. I told you I wouldn’t lie to you again and I’m keeping my promise.”

  
You saw the sincerity in her eyes and desperately wanted to believe she was telling the truth, but it was hard to trust her again, no matter how much you wanted to. Eventually, she turned back around and you spent the next several minutes in silence. Just as you were pulling up to the bunker, you asked, “So . . . the Colt?”

  
She opened up the glove compartment and pulled it out, gently laying it on the seat between you, “Here. Dagon was going to melt it down, destroying it as far as I know. But, I was hiding and was able to save it.”

  
“Hiding?”

  
“Yes, I can make myself invisible now. I’ve been practicing over the last few weeks,” she admitted, “But don’t worry, I wouldn’t use my powers to try and spy on you or Sam, so don’t even ask.”

  
You pulled into Baby’s parking spot and turned off the engine before reaching down to pick up your favorite weapon. You held it up, admiring its beauty before saying, “Thanks. Thanks for saving it.”

  
“You’re welcome, Winchester,” she replied quickly before exiting the vehicle. 

  
When she shut the door, Sam was startled awake in the backseat, “Wha – what, who, what? Where are we? What happened?”

  
You tucked the Colt into your jacket pocket, “Come on Sammy, I’ll buy ya a nightcap and bring you up to speed.” 

  
Twenty minutes later, you and your brother were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on a glass of whiskey, still processing the events of the last twenty four hours. You filled him in on the conversation between you and (Y/N), finishing your story by showing him the Colt that she had saved. You pulled the gun out of your pocket and placed it down on the table in front of you. 

  
He lightly chuckled before picking it up to examine it, “So, that’s where it went.”

  
“Yeah. Who knew she could ghost in and out like that.”

  
“Shouldn’t really be a surprise, given how powerful she is,” Sam noted, passing the Colt back to you. 

  
You tucked the gun safely back into the inside pocket of your jacket, “You think she would have mentioned something like that before tonight.”

  
Sam scoffed, “When Dean? When you were ignoring her in the hallways or when you were yelling at her in the motel parking lot?”

  


  
You stuttered, “That’s . . . that’s beside the point, ok?”

  
“Actually, it’s not.”

  
You rolled your eyes and stood up to stretch your legs, leaning against the kitchen island. 

  
Sam continued, “Dude, I hate to admit it but . . .”

  
“But what?” you snarled, crossing your arms. 

  
“Look, you know I hate Lucifer just as much as you do, probably more given my history with him. But anytime she’s known something about the future, she’s been right on the bullseye.”

  
“No she hasn’t. Remember the family of psycho witches with the “_Black Grimoire_”? 

  
“What about it?”

  
“It happened earlier than she said it would.”

  
Sam scoffed, “Okay, one thing was out of order, but she knew everything else and stopped you from going all “_Memento_”.”

  
You cocked your head to the side and nodded, “Well, yeah . . .”

  
“Dean,” Sam took in a heavy breath, “The sooner you start to trust her again, the better off you’ll both be. I’m tired of watching both of you sulk around here. It’s getting old and, I may regret saying this, but I’d much rather be disgusted at how close you two are than watch you two continue to tiptoe around each other. Talk to her, eat crow and move on with it, because by my watch, we got about three weeks until Jack is born.”

You and Sam stared at each other, neither of you speaking for several seconds, before he finally stood up from the table. He started to walk out of the room, “I’m going to get some sleep. I suggest you work on your apology speech to (Y/N).”

  
Once your brother had left the room, you rolled your head back and forth and ran your hand through your hair several times, “_Son of a bitch. She’s going to be right, isn’t she? Shit! This is gonna suck._”

  
You weren’t sure about what you were going to say to her exactly, but once you realized that you were open to the idea of trusting her about . . . Jack . . . all you could think about was talking with her. Well, there were other things you wanted to do to with her . . . or to her to be more accurate . . . but you were pretty sure you were going to have to talk before any of _that_ happened. 

  
Over the next few days, you tried to track her down, but for the bunker only having a total of three people in it, she was impossible to find alone. You found her playing cards with Sam in the library, on the phone with Claire in the kitchen, texting Jody while sipping on a wine cooler at the map table or asleep on the couch in your “Dean cave” while “_The Good, the Bad and the Ugly_” played in the background. You had almost woken her up, determined to get this conversation over and done with, so you could move on to more important, physical matters, but she looked so peaceful, curled up in a fetal position, snoring softly, that you just covered her up with a blanket and shut the door gently behind you. 

  
But today, today was the last straw, because you were reminded just how much you loved and missed her and you couldn’t take another day of not being with her. You were minding your business, coming back from the storage room where you had been secretly snooping around the Men of Letters weapons she stole, when you turned a corner and smacked into something wet. You were knocked back several feet and shouted, “Son of a bitch!” as you tried to wipe away excess the moisture from your arms and t-shirt. 

  
“Shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there.”

  
You finally looked up and saw her, wrapped in a black towel and nothing else. She pulled the towel tighter around her, holding it together with one hand, her other carrying her shower caddy. Her legs were glistening from the thin sheen of water that had yet to dry. Her wet hair framed her face, cascading down around her shoulders and landing near the top of her breasts that were just poking out over the top of the thin fabric covering her.

You unconsciously bit your lip as you undressed her with your eyes. She stood there for a few minutes, then tried to move past you, but you snatched her by the arm, “What the hell are you doing running around here in just a fucking towel?”

  
“_Great move, Dean! Don’t compliment her, go straight for the yelling . . . again._”

  
She forcefully tugged her arm from your grip and snapped, “Not that it’s any of your business, Winchester, but I accidentally forgot to bring a change of clothes with me into the shower,” before storming off in a huff. 

  
You watched her walk away and thought, “_That was slightly terrifying and incredibly hot. How does she do that?_”

  
You felt like a stalker the rest of the day, waiting for an opportunity for a one on one conversation with her. When you finally took a break to use the bathroom, you lost her. However, the magical sound of her chuckling from the “Fortress of Dean-atude” signaled that not only was she awake, but probably alone. You marched down the hall confidently and pushed open the door, only to be disappointed. Sure, she was there, stretched out on the couch and looking fine as hell in a pair of dark blue jeans and a hoodie that said “I speak in Disney quotes and sarcasm”. However, Sammy “cockblock” Winchester, was sitting in the La-Z-Boy recliner next to her. 

  
Sam was the first to notice your presence, “Hey Dean. Need something?”

  
She was giggling at something on the TV in front of her. You peeled your eyes away from her before she could notice you staring, “Uh, no. Just thought I heard something. Thought I’d check it out.”

  
She glanced at you with a side eye, pretending not to pay you any attention as she continued to munch on her popcorn. You took a couple of steps into the room, “So, what are you two doing in here?”

  
Sam pointed to the TV, “Oh, we were just hanging out and I found out that she’s never seen an episode of the “_The Three Stooges_”.”

  
“What?” you yelped unconsciously an octave higher than normal. 

  
“I know, right? So, we are righting that wrong.”

  
“Well . . . Good, yeah, everyone should at least see one episode in their life,” you said shifting nervously from one foot to the other. 

  
Sam could sense your hesitation, “Dean?”

  
You replied quickly, “Yeah?”

  
“You gonna stand awkwardly in the doorway or do you wanna join us?”

  
She briefly looked away from the show to Sam, who shrugged his shoulders at her. She turned back towards you, lips pursed into a straight line and gave you the iciest invitation you had ever received in her life, “Yeah, Winchester, why don’t you take a seat?”

  
She sat up and scooted closer to the other side of the couch, tucking her legs underneath of her. 

  
“Sure, I’d love to,” you answered cockily. 

  
You sat down on the other side of the couch and surprisingly, the tension in the air seemed to dissipate over the next ten minutes as the three of you forgot about your real world problems by escaping with Larry, Mo and Curly into their slapstick comedy routines. You started stealing little glances at her and once or twice, you could’ve sworn she was staring right back at you. Your mind begin to wander, thinking of ways you could get Sammy to go away so you could be alone with her, when he snapped at you. 

  
“Dean, what is your problem?”

  
You shook your head, “Nothing why?”

  
She teased, “Because, Winchester, you’re sitting over there grunting and huffing like an old bear.”

  
Instead of playing into her playful banter, you let your frustration get the better of you and lied, “Well, I . . . it’s kind of hard to enjoy the show when you got someone laughing so hard that you can’t hear what’s going on.”

  
She sat up a little straighter, holding a hand flat on her chest, “Are you talking about me?”

  
“If the cackling fits.”

  
She scoffed and Sam came to her defense, “Really Dean? You’re mad because she’s laughing at a comedy show? What’s wrong with you?”

  
Before you could answer, she held a hand up in your direction, “You know what, whatever. I’ll go and you two can enjoy the rest of the night together.”

  
She stood, but Sam started to protest, “No, come on, we didn’t even get through one episode!”

  
She patted him on the shoulder, “It’s okay, we’ll finish another time. I’m not in the mood anymore. Night big bird.”

  
“Night nerd,” Sam called out as she left the room. Once she was gone, he gave you one of his signature bitchfaces, “Really dude?”

  
You turned your focus back to the TV as if nothing had happened, “What?”

  
He stood up from his chair and started to leave too, “I swear if you don’t quit acting like an ass and apologize in the next couple of days, I’m gonna break your nose.”

  
You exhaled sharply, “_And I just might let you._”

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“_UUUGGGHH!!! Who does he think he is.? Always ruining a happy moment just because he’s in a pissy mood. He’s worse than a damn woman! Even I’m not that emotional!_”

  
“_Well, he is your soulmate, so maybe you are . . ._” The logical side of you noted. 

  
“_Quiet! Now is not the time for rational thought!_”

  
You nervously tapped your pen on top of the desk, trying to will your thoughts back to the task at hand to distract yourself from Dean’s latest outburst. The top of the college ruled paper in your red spiral notebook read, “_Ideas for Big Bird’s Birthday_”. Sam’s 34th birthday was coming up and you were doing your best to brainstorm ideas to make his day as special as Dean’s, but you simply didn’t remember or know the little hidden gems about his history that would make it as memorable. Still, you were going to do your damndest not to just let the day slip by like any other. Sam had been a rock for you these last few weeks and you eagerly wanted to repay the favor to your pseudo big brother. 

  
“_I wish Sam had someone who loved him as much as I love Dean._”

  
Suddenly, there was a sharp rap on the door followed by silence. Since there were only two options as who it could be and Sam always said, “Hey it’s me,” you were pretty confident it was the Winchester brother you had no desire to see at this particular moment. 

  
He knocked loudly several more times. 

  
“Sorry, closed for business. Try again another day,” you called out. 

  
But that didn’t deter Dean. Suddenly, he was barging into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. You spun around in your chair, ready to tell him to get lost, but your mouth went dry and the wind was knocked out of you. His face was hard, eyes radiating pure rage. His hands were balled into fists at his sides and he was staring at you like you were a monster he needed to gank. 

  
You swallowed hard, “Wha – what’s going on?”

  
“We need to talk,” he growled. 

  
Surprisingly, his demanding tone caused your confidence to reemerge, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  
“I’m not joking.”

  
You spun back around in your chair so your back was to him, “Look, I’ve tried to talk to you for weeks and now, you wanna come barging in and demand that we speak? I don’t think so. I’m tired and I don’t feel like dealing with this . . .”

  
“Too damn bad!” he yelled a little closer to you, causing you to practically jump out of your skin, “Turn around and look at me.”

  
You body moved before your mind could protest and suddenly, you were staring into his dangerous green eyes once more. He approached you purposefully and you stood up to try and level the playing ground but all this did was trap you between him and your desk. He finally stopped when he was a foot away from you and just stared into your eyes, pinning you in place. God help you, despite how terrifying he was, you couldn’t help but to feel a tightening in your core and knew there was a damp spot of arousal on your panties. After all, he was wearing that red and black plaid flannel that made him look like the most fuckable lumberjack in history and gave you all sorts of nasty thoughts. He was so close that for the first time in days, you could inhale his intoxicating scent of whiskey and gunpowder. God, how you had missed that. 

  
You finally gathered your senses, “Fine. I’m looking at you. Since this is your world and I’m just living in it, what do you want to say to me, Winchester? Please tell me. I’m drying to know.”

  
He gritted his teeth and shook his head before speaking more softly than you would’ve expected, “I . . . I hate you. I fucking hate you.”

  
You audibly gasped and couldn’t help the immediate tears that sprang to your eyes. Your chest tightened as your heart shattered like glass, cutting through every other internal organ as the pieces ricocheted inside of you. Your lips trembled and a million thoughts ran through your head, “_No, no, no, no, no. He really can’t forgive me? Seriously? Was Jack really worth it? If I lose Dean, was it really worth it? Maybe I can go back and change things. But should I? I . . ._”

  
“I hate you,” he repeated, “And you know what I hate the most? I hate that you’re everywhere I fucking go and everything reminds me of you. I can’t get away from you!”

  
“_Wait . . . What?_”

  
You gave him a blank stare, uncontrollable tears running down your cheeks as he explained, “I must have washed my damn sheets every other day, but the scent of you is fucking ingrained in the fabric. I grab my keys? There are you. I go to make a phone call? You’re there. I can’t even get something to eat without seeing that ridiculous magnet collection you started to decorate the refrigerator with.”

  
“Just throw it all away then!” you wailed. 

  
“That’s the thing! I don’t want to! I must be a masochist,” he replied, shaking his head and inching a little closer. “You know what else I hate about you? I hate that I love your cooking as much as I do. I haven’t had a decent meal in the past month. Nothing tastes the same and I miss walking into the kitchen seeing you dance and hum while you work your magic with the stove. Hell sweetheart, even pie doesn’t seem appealing.”

  
“Really?” you asked, your voice breaking. 

  
“Yes. I hate that every chick I see, I always compare them to you. Even when Sammy and I went hunting Moloch, there was this girl . . .”

  
“_Oh yeah, I wondered how that would go considering we were fighting_,” you thought solemnly. 

  
“But she was nothing compared to you. No one even comes close to being as special as you are to me. Tonight, I hated hearing you laugh, because it’s become the most beautiful sound in the world and I’ve missed it. I’ve missed making you laugh,” he said barely above a whisper as the tip of his boots met your bare feet.

  
“(Y/N), I hate that I’ve missed taking you on hunts with me and being in the thick of it, watching you kick ass. I hate . . .” he tentatively reached out to stroke your cheek with the back of his hand, “that there’s someone else that I feel I need to protect. I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, but I still worry about you getting hurt.”

  
“Winchester . . .” you started, wanting to explain to him that he was the only one that could literally hurt you, but he gripped your chin tightly, silencing you. 

  
Once he realized you weren’t going to finish your sentence, he continued, “I hate that you don’t say my name anymore. Hearing my name coming off those pretty lips,” he took in a deep breath and rubbed your bottom lip with his thumb, “Is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard.”

  
He was pressed flush up against you now, but he took a second to push you back further, urging you to sit on top of your desk. You obliged, and spread your legs so he could stand between them, but refrained from reaching out to touch him, despite how much his hair was begging to have your fingers entwined with it or how much you were aching to wrap your arms around his neck. 

  
He circled his left arm around you and gripped the back of your neck with his right hand, “I hate how you make me feel so normal. With you, I can have the normal holidays and family stuff and then still go out and hunter monsters with you and my brother. Instead of you tearing my life apart, you give me the best of both worlds. You’re like a light at the end of the tunnel.”

  
“_Holy shit . . . Is he really saying this all to me or is it a dream?_”

  
“I hate that I know it’s been exactly four weeks, twenty eight days, since I’ve kissed you,” he confessed, pulling you even closer to him, “Four weeks since I’ve had you in my arms . . . in my bed.”

  
“I’ve been right here Dean, willing to talk,” you replied softly. 

  
You were shocked to see a few tears roll down his cheeks as he spoke his next words, “And the thing I hate the most? I hate that I can’t hate you. I really want to hate you for lying to me, but I can’t. Because, sweetheart,” he took in a deep breath, “I love you.”

  


“What?”

  
“I said, I love you,” he replied fiercely, his hypnotizing green orbs flickering from your lips to your eyes, “Congratu-fucking-lations to me, I’m in love with someone who has pissed me off more than I’ve been in my entire life. Somehow, you, you Disney loving, backseat driving, pop music loving, “pass the beer and give me a wine cooler” nerd, you’ve made me fall in love with you.”

  
You couldn’t help but to chuckle at that last statement. When you heard it out loud, you two sounded complete wrong for each other but somehow it worked. 

  
A small smile crept across his mouth, “I am full on butterflies in the stomach, head over heels in love with you (Y/N). So what do you have to say for yourself?”

  
You were about to lean forward and kiss him, when suddenly you remembered just how much of a jackass he had been this last month. You pulled back and his eyes widened in shock, “Hold on there Winchester. You think you can just barge in my room after giving me the cold shoulder all this time, tell me you love me and what? I’ll just automatically roll over and forgive you? That I’ll forget we need to talk about Jack?”

  
“Honestly? I wasn’t expecting anything.”

  
You arched an eyebrow, “Really, Winchester?”

  
“Maybe I was hoping we could make up, but I was just tired of fighting with you. After what happened with Cas and Dagon, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  
You let out a small gasp, “Seriously?”

  
He pulled your face within inches of his once more, “Seriously.”

  
You licked your lips and grinned before finally feeling brave enough to wrap your arms around his middle, “So what do we do now?”

  
His plump, perfectly pink lips were millimeters from yours, “Now? I think we should get out the rest of our aggression through angry sex.”

  
“Ooh, okay. Yes, please,” you replied a little too excitedly. 

  
He chuckled, “There’s my eager girl.”

  
With that, he pulled you in roughly, closing the minuscule gap between you, and the dry spell was over. His lips crashed onto yours in a rough and needy kiss before his tongue invaded your mouth. The taste of his whiskey was a welcome contrast to the flavor of buttered popcorn that lingered on your taste buds. You ran your hands up and underneath his shirt, relishing in the skin on skin contact and pulling him closer to you. He let one of his hands dance down your body to grope your ass while the other grasped a fistful of your hair. He tugged hard, forcing your mouth to pull away from his. His lips quickly attacked your exposed neck and alternated between sucking hard on your skin to the point that it was almost painful, to soothing, soft kisses. 

  
Your breath was ragged, “Winchester . . . are you putting a hickey on me?”

  
He pulled your hair once more, forcing you look him in the eyes which were dilated to the point that only a sliver of green was visible around his irises. Your head was spinning and the man had barely even gotten started with you. He narrowed his eyes, “Now, you listen to me,” he said, his tongue darting out briefly to wet his lips, “Tonight, you call me by my name. Got it?”

  
His intensity was so startling that you forgot to answer. When he decided you were taking too long, he tugged your hair and asked again, “I said, do you got it?”

  
“Sorry, it’s just become a force of habit,” you uttered meekly. 

  
“Well, tonight we’re gonna break that habit, you hear me?”

  
“Yes.”

  
He inched closer to you, “Yes, what?”

  
“Yes, Dean.”

  
He smiled smugly and said, “Good girl,” before tilting your head back to expose the other side of your neck, “And yes. Tonight, I’m making sure to mark you up as mine.”

  
His lips found that sweet spot on your collarbone and you moaned out in pleasure, “Fuck, Dean!”

  
He hummed in appreciation as he continued to nip, suck and gently bite his way across your skin, eventually working his way up your neck and back to your lips for another assault. You shifted on the desk so that you could grind yourself against his leg, your pulsating core in dire need of friction. You could feel him start to mimic your movements and groaned when you felt his stiffening cock rubbing against your leg.

  
His hands untangled from you and skimmed down your body to find the hem of your hoodie. You felt a painful ache when you had to break away from his lips, but knew that the brief loss would be worth it. You lifted your arms up in the air and he swiftly rid you of hoodie, tossing it furiously aside. He started to do the same with your t-shirt, but stopped when he saw that it said “_My Dean Killed Hitler_”. 

  
A soft smile spread across his face and your cheeks were suddenly on fire as you blushed in embarrassment. His fingers traced along the bottom of your shirt and you shivered at his delicate touch. He clicked his tongue against his cheek, quirked an eyebrow and asked with curiosity, “So, this shirt? Really?”

  
You bit your bottom lip before answering shyly, “I missed you too Dean. So damn much. It just felt nice to wear something that reminded me of you so that you’d be close.”

  
He grabbed two handfuls of the fabric, “Well, I’m here now, so you don’t need this.”

  
He tore your shirt from your body and practically growled when he found you weren’t wearing a bra. He ran his hands up your thighs, past your bare hips and stomach until he was cupping your breasts, thumbs rubbing back and forth across your already erect nipples. “Hello ladies,” he pronounced cockily, “Daddy’s home.”

  
You couldn’t help but to giggle at his greeting, “Oh and how they missed you, Daddy.”

  
Dean grunted and pinched your nipples, sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to your core, “(Y/N), not that I don’t like the idea of you calling me ‘Daddy’, but have we forgotten the only name you’re allowed to call me tonight?”

  
You arched your back, pushing your breasts further into his grip, “Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean.”

  
“That’s my girl,” he replied before leaning down and taking your left breast into his mouth, his rough scruff scratching your soft skin. You threaded your fingers through the soft spikes of hair on top of his head and threw your head back as Dean worshipped one breast, then the other with his masterful mouth for God knows how long. When he’d finally sated his thirst, he released your breast with a pornographic *_POP_*. 

  
He took a few steps back and palmed the bulge that was straining against the crotch of his jeans, “Damn, you are fucking beautiful, sweetheart.”

  
You let him gawk at you for a few more minutes before hopping down and making your way towards him. You grabbed him fiercely by his biceps and looked up at him sweetly, “Dean, not that I don’t like everything you’ve done so far, but you promised me angry sex. And that’s exactly what I want.”

  
He titled his head to the side, “Sure you can handle it?”

  
You squeezed his arms, “Hell yes!”

  
“All right, sweetheart, you asked for it,” he warned before knocking your arms away to snatch you by your shoulders. He pushed down, “On your knees.”

  
It was almost shameful how quickly you dropped to the floor, panting like a dog in heat as Dean undid his belt. He popped the button of his jeans and slowly pulled the metallic zipper down while you watched in anticipation, your pussy fluttering around nothing. He toed off his shoes and socks before shoving his pants and boxers down, his dick spring out in front of you. 

  
You reached out to touch him, but he smacked your hand away, “Nu uh, you touch me when I tell you to.” You unconsciously whimpered as he started to stroke himself, the head of his gorgeous member already leaking with delicious precum. He noticed your eagerness and taunted, “Look at you. My sweet little virgin, down on her knees like a filthy little slut.”

  
You licked your bottom lip, “Only for you Dean.”

  
“That’s right, cause you’re mine,” he said as he started to fondle his balls.

  
“Please, Dean.”

  
“Please, what?”

  
“I wanna do that.”

  
He teased, “Do what? Come, I wanna hear you say it.”

  
“I wanna taste you.”

  
“Okay,” he said before rubbing his thumb across his slit several times and pressing it to your lips. “Suck,” he ordered.

  
You opened your mouth and swirled your tongue around his digit, greedily slurping up his essence and moaning in pleasure. His hand rubbed your cheek as you continued to suck his thumb. He finally took away his hand and reached around to snatch your hair, pulling your face within inches of his throbbing cock, “Think you can handle something bigger?”

  
“Yes Dean. Please. I want you in my mouth,” you begged, hoping that it would turn him on as much as it did you. 

  
“All right then, sweetheart, open up.”

  
You opened up your mouth and he forced your face onto himself, the tip of his dick quickly hitting the back of your throat so that you almost gagged. You felt him grab your head with his other hand and he began to thrust himself in and out of your hot, wet and welcoming mouth. You reached up, grabbing his thighs to steady yourself as Dean started to let go and fuck your mouth at his own speed. He started out with a rough pace and you did your best to hold on for the ride. You hollowed your cheeks and undulated your tongue, massaging the underside of his meaty cock while trying to breathe through your nose. It was surprising a lot of work being this passive for him, but when your flicked your eyes up and saw that his head was thrown back, teeth gritted in pleasure, you knew it was all worth it. 

You slid your hands around and cupped his ass, pulling him even deeper into you. He continued pounding away at your mouth for several long minutes. Drool rolled out the side of your mouth and your jaw began to ache, but the little grunts and groans he emanated spurred you on. Finally, he pulled out of you and squeezed the base of his dick, “Shit, stop, stop.”

  
He was trembling, eyes closed as he stilled to bring himself down from the edge. You stayed in place, awaiting your next order, despite the protesting ache in your knees. When his breathing had slowed down, he opened his eyes and reached down to pull you up to him. He crushed your body against his, his stiffened cock pressed onto your abdomen as he slammed his lips onto yours for a sloppy kiss, “Jesus Christ, I missed that.”

  
You gave him a wink and ran your tongue along the front of your top teeth, “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

  
“Bed. On all fours. Now,” he commanded before peeling your jeans and underwear off of you.

  
Without hesitation, you followed his ordered and swiftly made your way to the bed to take his directed “doggy style” position. You faced the head of the bed, with your sex open and exposed for him to do whatever he pleased. You heard him remove his shirt just before you felt one of his hands rub up along your spine as the other started to slip in between your folds. 

  
You shuddered, “Fuck, Winchester.”

  
His hand on your back was gone in a flash and you felt light smack on your ass that made you jump. You yelped in surprise, “What was that for?” 

  
“That was for not saying my name. I won’t warn you again,” he warned sternly. 

  
His slap had stung, but not necessarily in a bad way. If anything, it was a little exciting to have him spank your ass. You turned your head to look back at him over your shoulder, “Hmmm, what if I want that again . . . _Winchester_?” 

  
He plunged two fingers into you the same moment his hand came swatting down on your ass once more, a little more forcefully this time. You cried out, “Fuck!”

  
He slapped you once more as he started to slowly pump his digits in and out of you, “So, my girl really does like it rough?”

  
“Yes, Dean. God, yes,” you moaned. 

  
“I can tell. You’re already dripping wet, ready for me.”

  
“Please, Dean,” you begged as you started to rock your hips back towards him. 

  
“Please what, sweetheart?” he asked before slapping you lightly once more. 

  
You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of your mouth, but you were truly in over your head in love with this man, “I want you Dean. I want you inside me. It’s been way too long since you fucked me.”

  
He removed his fingers and leaned forward, pressing his chest to your back. Suddenly his fingers were at your mouth, slippery and glistening with your juices, “Open up.”

  
You were hesitant, but no way were you going to disobey Dean at this point. You parted your lips and he slid his fingers in, rubbing your tongue so you’d get a good taste of yourself. It was nothing like him, but not necessarily unpleasant. He pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth several times and you heard him growl deep in his chest. Just as you were losing yourself in the moment, you felt him line himself up at your entrance, inserting just the tip of his cock. You moaned and he pulled his fingers out of your mouth so he could grip you tightly by your hips with both hands. 

  
“Still want it rough, doll?”

  
You nodded your head. 

  
He clicked his tongue against the front of his teeth several times, “Nope, you gotta tell me. Do you want it rough?”

He pushed forward, inserting another inch of himself tantalizing slowly, “Yes Dean! Show me what you got!”

  
“You got it babe,” he replied before slamming into you, almost knocking you off balance and face first onto the bed. You gripped tightly at the sheets as Dean started to aggressive pound your pussy. When he bottomed out the first time, there was a little pinching since it had been a month you had slept with him, but that quickly subsided and soon, he was giving you nothing but utter bliss. The air was filled with skin slapping against skin , your heavy breathing and Dean’s grunting.

  
He reached around and splayed his hand across your abdomen and pushed gently, “Sit up.”

  
You pushed yourself up off of the bed so you were up your knees, your back to his chest. He continued to thrust up and into you, but the new angle meant he was dragging his cock back and forth across your g-spot. 

  
You screamed, “Holy shit! Yes, Dean!” 

  
He wormed his hand up to cup your left breast as he wrapped his other hand around your neck. His voice was gruff and ragged in your ear, “Do you trust me?”

  
You reached back to run your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly, “Always.”

  
“Good. Pinch me if you want me to stop,” he said before nipping at your earlobe. 

  
The hand around your neck started to apply pressure, slowly cutting off your air supply. You tried to breathe in, but the hold he had on you wouldn’t allow it. Instead of being terrified, your senses were heightened and focused singularly on the building pressure in your core. He released his grasp momentarily, allowing you to take in a deep gulp of fresh air, before choking you once more. You grunted and reached back to wrap a hand around the back of his neck, looking for something to anchor yourself onto as your climax started to barrel down on you like an train on a runaway track. 

  
He lowered his hand from your breast to furiously rub tight circles on your clit. He rested his forehead on your shoulder and groaned, “Come on sweetheart, you’re right there. Give it to me.”

With a few more thrusts, your orgasm crashed down on you. He released your throat from his clutch, allowing oxygen to rush to your brain. Stars appeared in your vision as your mouth dropped to wail out a string of words, “Dean . . . I . . . FUCK!” Your knees trembled and your pussy clamped down onto Dean’s cock. He managed to pump into you a few more times before finding his own release, “Ugh! Shit!”

  
He was still rubbing your clit and the feeling of him exploding inside of you sent another little shockwave of pleasure radiating through your body. He held you close as he emptied himself into you and once he was spent, the two of you collapsed on the bed, with Dean managing to land by your side instead of on top of you. The two of you lay there, a sweaty, sticky mess, struggling to slow your labored breathing. 

  
After a few minutes, he asked, “Rough enough, sweetheart?”

  
You smiled drunkenly and patted his face, “You did good soldier.”

  
“Are you okay? Let me see your neck,” he ordered, tenderly cupping your chin. 

  
“Yeah, I’m good. I loved watching you let go.”

  
“Apparently,” he replied with a smug smile, wagging his eyebrows, “Who knew my soulmate would be such a kinky slut for me.”

  
You blushed, “Dean . . .”

  
“What? It’s hot and fucking adorable. I missed that,” he confessed quietly. 

  
You scooted over closer to him, “I missed you too. Look, I promise that I won’t lie to you ever again if you promise the same to me. Think you can do that?”

  
He sighed heavily and started to idly stroke your back, “That’s a tall order for me, doll.”

  
“I know, but if you want the truth from me, I expect the same. If you’re honest with me, I’ll be a completely open book to you.”

  
“Open book huh?” he teased, his hand reaching your ass

  
“Dean, I’m serious.”

  
He squeezed a handful of your backside, “Me too.”

  
You narrowed your eyes, “No more lies. None. Even if you think it’s best if you do, we need to be completely honest with each other moving forward.”

  
He taunted, “Okay, but what if you cook something that tastes really bad? Or what if an outfit looks terrible on you? Am I suppose to risk you snapping your fingers and dusting me out of existence.”

  
“I would never do that. Plus, my food is fucking fantastic, you said so yourself, and you think I look good in everything.”

  
He replied sarcastically, “Riiiiiiiiiight.”

  
You snickered and punched him playfully in the arm, “Seriously. No more lies?”

  
He rolled his eyes, “Fine. No more lies.”

  
You leaned in and gave him a slow, gentle kiss before saying, “Good. Now, there’s one more thing you said that bothered me.”

  
He shook his head in confusion, “What?”

  
“You said I was the light at the end of your tunnel, but Dean, I don’t want you to think of me like that.”

  
He looked heartbroken, “What? Why not? You are, (Y/N). For the first time, I see something more than just hunting. I see beyond this shit show that gets thrown at me everyday.”

  
You rubbed his cheek, “And that makes me happy beyond words. But, Dean, I’m not at the end of whatever tunnel you’re in, like some prize or carrot on a stick. I am _in_ the tunnel with you, going through whatever you’re going through. Now, maybe I’m holding the light, showing you the way out, but you’re not in there alone.”

  
“Seriously?” he asked sincerely. 

  
“Of course, dumbass. Plus, Sam and Cas are there for you too.”

  
“But not all the time, right? ‘Cause, what if I wanna have kinky tunnel sex with you,” he teased as he flipped you onto your back to crawl on top of you. 

  
You shook your head and giggled, “No, they can go away during the tunnel sex.”

  
“Good. Now I want to do another first with you.”

  
“I’m kinda scared about what a first for you might mean.”

  
He lowered his head and brushed his lips softly against yours, “I think we should have makeup sex. We did the angry sex, now we have to makeup.”

  
“Okay, but then we should fight again so we can have more angry sex,” you replied excitedly.

  
He roared with laughter before kissing the tip of your nose, “Deal. Damn, do I love you.”

  
“I love you too,” you replied before Dean and you commenced to making up. Neither of you felt the urge to rush, so you took your time rediscovering each other’s body in more detail as you leisurely made love. After your third and his second orgasm of the night, he pulled you into his arms and nuzzled your neck. 

  
All the tension and stress from the last month fell away as he whispered softly in your ear, “Night, princess.”

  
You snuggled into him and uttered, “Night Dean,” before falling asleep, wrapped protectively in his arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always excited to hear feedback and comments!  
So now Dean is on board . . . Kind of . . . But at least he and the Reader are on each other’s side again. Can’t wait to post again! Have a fantastic day! 🤗


	44. Love Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean get pulled into a case with some new and old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I’m back! Sorry it’s been almost two weeks since the last update! My muse was in her own little quarantine and I was busy brainstorming this chapter and working from home. Anywho, the next chapter actually ended up being incredibly long, so much so that I have actually split it into two parts! So, you’re gonna get two chapters for the price of one. Hopefully that will make up for the long absence.

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You were in that odd state of somewhere between consciousness and sleep, when Dean’s breath tickled your ear, “Good morning, sweetheart.”

  
You groaned in protest, still uncertain if you wanted to wake up, “Five more minutes.”

  
He kissed your temple, “Come on, wake up sweetheart. I got something for you.”

  
You peeked at him through one eye and saw that he was already dressed in last night’s clothes, sitting on the side of the bed as he tried to convince you to wake up, “What is it?”

  
“I made eggs and bacon. Hungry?”

  
You pulled the sheet around your naked body and sat up slowly, “You made me breakfast in bed for a change?”

  
He rubbed your leg over the thin covers, “Well, I couldn’t sleep with you snoring, so I thought I’d make myself useful.”

  
You smacked his arm, “I do not snore!”

  
“You’re right. You do more of this moaning thing.”

  
You dropped your mouth open in shock and squeaked, “What?!”

  
“Mmhmm,” he nodded, “It’s actually kinda sexy. It’s like a mix between a purr and a moan. But sometimes it can be really loud. What exactly are you dreaming about?”

“Well, nothing that would make me moan!” You threw your hands over your face, “I am so mortified right now.”

  
He chuckled, “Don’t be. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

  
“It’s not on the hate list?”

  
“No way,” he replied before leaning forward and giving you a sweet kiss.

  
“So, where’s this supposed breakfast chef Winchester?”

  
He cocked his head, “On your desk. But first,” he rose and stood at the end of the bed, gripping the bottom of the sheets, “There’s something I want from you.”

  
His tongue skimmed across his bottom lip as his demeanor went from playful to predatory in the blink of an eye. You pressed your thighs together subconsciously and swallowed as he started to lift the sheets up, “What do you want?”

  
Just before ducking under the covers, he winked cockily, “I want my own breakfast.”

  
And breakfast is exactly what you gave him. Dean took his time bringing you to the precipice of your orgasm several times as he familiarized himself again with your taste, before finally letting you crash down over the edge, twice. By the time you two got around to eating your real breakfast, it was as cold, but neither of you really seemed to care. 

  
You sipped on your coffee and gazed at his face as the two of you ate in your bed. You reached up a hand to lightly stroke a pink scar above his left eyebrow, “That’s new. Where’d it come from?”

  
“Vamp’s nest in Texas about a week ago,” he replied casually, chewing his bacon. 

  
“Dean Winchester,” you scolded, “You took on a nest of vampires alone? What if something had happened to you?”

  
“I didn’t say I was alone and I’ve been hunting a long time. I got this.”

  
“Who were you with?”

  
“Mom.”

  
“Your mother?” you asked, astonished. 

  
“Yeah, we uh . . . we happened to meet up and found out we were working the same case so we got to spend a few days together on a mother-son hunting trip.”

  
You leaned up and pressed your lips to his eyebrow, “Well, anyway, I’m glad you’re all right . . . jackass.”

  
He chuckled, “Yeah, well I’m not a delicate flower like some others out there, princess.”

  
You ran your hands through his hair and patted him on the cheek, “I don’t know, you feel pretty soft to me.”

  
He grabbed your coffee and empty plate, setting them on the his nightstand before quickly throwing his body on top of yours, pinning you to the bed. He nuzzled your jaw and teased, “You must need reminding just how hard I can be.”

  
You turned your head to the side, giving him better access to your neck and moaned when he started to lazily grind against your thigh. His warm touch ignited that spark in your belly, but after your marathon sex session over the last twelve hours, you weren’t sure you could handle anymore. You threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled to grab his attention, “Dean?”

  
He groaned and lifted his face to yours, “Yeah?”

  
You rubbed your other hand up and down his back, “Believe me, I would love to go again, but it has been a month since we were together and we went hard last night.”

  
His eyes narrowed with worry, “Are you okay?”

  
“Oh, I’m more than okay. I’m fan-fucking-tastic, but I need a break. I’m a little sore and need to recover.”

  
He smiled smugly, “Sore, huh?”

  
You playfully smacked his back, “Yes, cowboy. I’m a little tender. Don’t go getting a big head over this.”

  
He shallowly thrust himself against you, “It’s a little too late for that.”

  
“How about we go get cleaned up and I’ll thank you in my own special way.”

  
He wiggled his eyebrows, “Like a special, sexy way?”

You threw your head back laughing, “Dean, you are incorrigible!” He leaned up and kissed your cheek as you continued to speak, “And yes, in a special, sexy way as you so eloquently put it.”

  
“Awesome!”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
It was like a metric ton of weight had been lifted off of your shoulders now that you and (Y/N) were on the same page again. You were feeling more relaxed than you had in a long time and sure, it may or may not have to do with the fact that you’d spent the better part of the night buried inside of her or that just thirty minutes ago she was down on her knees in front of you in the shower, with your cock in her mouth as she stroked and sucked you so skillfully that your legs had almost buckled when you exploded in her mouth, but who cared. For a brief moment in your miserable life, you were happy again. 

  
Now, you two were working quietly in the armory, nibbling on sandwiches that she had made when she insisted that the two of you needed to continue to recoup your strength if you were going to make up for lost time later on tonight. In the midst of everything going on, your reserve of specialized bullets had dwindled down to almost nothing and, even though she could easily take out any enemy with the snap of her fingers, she insisted on being prepared and not depending on her powers for everything. 

  
You were packing salt shotgun shells while she was busy carving devil trap sigils into the top of bullets. You would occasionally bump her shoulder, breaking her concentration and almost making her mess up the design. Even though you had managed to prep twenty rounds, she had barely gotten through a clip because she kept dodging your playful attacks. 

  
You were reaching over to swat her knife when she dropped it to the table and snatched your hand, bending your wrist back slightly. You cried out, “Ow! Easy there, sweetheart!”

  
“Mmhmm,” she replied smiling, “Not so much fun when someone else has the upper hand huh?”

  
You leaned forward and she slightly loosened her grip, “Well what are you gonna do now that you got me?”

  
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  
“I bet I could think of a few ideas.”

  
She inched forward and closed the gap between you, releasing your hand completely before pressing her lips to yours. You lifted up your hand to cup her cheek as your lips pushed and pulled against one another. Just as you were about to slid your tongue into her mouth, a voice cried out from the doorway, “OH THANK GOD!”

  
You both broke away and turned towards the uninvited guest. Sam was standing there, hand thrown up the air in praise, “Hallelujah!

  
She smiled shyly and leaned back in her chair, “Hey Sam.”

  
He approached the table and took a seat on the other side, “I’ve been looking for you two and when I couldn’t find either of you all morning, I figured you had either killed each other or made up.”

  
You rubbed her knee, “I’m surprised you couldn’t tell from last night. I thought we were pretty loud myself.”

  
She blushed, “Dean!” 

  
Sam looked disgusted, “Dude! Really?”

  
You gave them a smug, satisfied smile, “What?” 

  
She patted your hand, “Well, per Sam’s request, I may have put up a sound barrier so our . . . extracurricular activities could be kept private.”

  
“What? Seriously, sweetheart?”

  
Sam sighed with relief, “You’re a lifesaver.”

  
“Come on Dean,” she stated, “What if your mom or someone else was here. Would you really want them to hear us?”

  
You sucked in air through your teeth, “Good point.”

  
Sam surveyed the table, “So, Dean, does this mean you’re on board with Jack?”

  
You sighed heavily and she looked at you expectedly, “Let’s just say I’m gonna wait and uh, see exactly what the kid is like in person. We’ll see if he breaks bad or not and then go from there.”

  
“Fair enough,” he replied, “So, what are you all doing in here?”

  
She picked up a bullet and started to carve once more, “I noticed we were running low on our arsenal, so I wrangled him into helping me stock it back up.”

  
Sam looked confused, “But (Y/N), can’t you just kill anything with a snap of your fingers now?”

  
“Well yeah, but I don’t want to rely on that. What if I get knocked out or we find something that my powers happen to not work on. I’d rather be prepared in case of emergency. Besides, I don’t want to get lazy and flabby.”

  
You squeezed her thigh, “Hey, you’d be beautiful no matter what. Besides, sometimes a little extra cushion is nice, know what I mean?”

  
She leaned in to give you a quick kiss, “You’re just saying that because you love me.”

  
Sam gasped and the color drained from her face when she realized what she had said. She looked like she was about to apologize when you replied, “You’re damn right I do.”

  
Relief washed over her face and you turned to your brother who was staring mouth agape, eyebrow raised at you. He asked mockingly “Is that so?”

  
“Yeah, it is,” you confessed confidently before kissing her fiercely. 

  
When you broke away, you expected Sam to be laughing or ready with a smartass comment. Instead he simply nodded his head and said, “Good for you two.”

  
You nodded your head and returned to packing shotgun shells while she grinned uncontrollably next to you. After a few seconds of silence, Sam spoke up once more, “So, what’s the plan then?”

  
“What do you mean?” you asked. 

  
“I mean with Cas, Kelly and Jack. Where are they and what are they doing?”

  
She finally finished a clip of bullets and started on her second one, “Oh, yeah. So, I’ve been in touch with Cas and he is holed up with Kelly in a safe house in Washington state. They’re lying low and trying to stay off the radar for now. I figured we could head up that way about a week before Jack is due to be born.”

  
“Why can’t they just come here? This is one of the safest places out there,” Sam pointed out. 

  
“I brought that up to Cas, but he said that Kelly was still a little hesitant about you two. I don’t think she likes the idea of being trapped in an underground bunker with two people that tried to harm her unborn child.”

  
“_Lucifer’s_ child,” you muttered under your breath. 

  
“What was that?” she asked sharply. 

  
“Mmhmm, that’s what I thought,” she replied. “So, we can go up there and wait for Jack to be born. I have big plans for the future.”

  
Sam cocked his head to the side, “Such as?”

  
She sat down the bullets and her knife, “On the day Jack is born, his power starts to seep through into this world. So much so, that he actually opens a rift into another world.”

  
“Another world? Like, um, another reality from ours?”

  
She nodded her head, “Exactly, Sam. Only, this world, it’s apocalyptic. This is a world in which your mother didn’t make a deal with Azazel. So, your father stayed dead and you and Dean were never born. The two of you never stopped Michael and Lucifer from fighting and the world fell into chaos.”

  
You sat back in your chair, arms crossed, “And how do we stop that craziness from leaking over here?”

  
She took in a deep breath, “Originally, Crowley performed a spell to close the rift, but it required him to kill himself.”

  
Sam held up his hands in front of him, “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait a minute. You’re trying to tell us that Crowley sacrificed himself . . . for _us_?”

  
“It was definitely out of character, but yeah he did. However, I’m hoping to hop over there and hop back and then close the rift with no casualties.”

  
You scoffed, “No, no way! Why in the hell would you want to go there?!”

  
“Because, I’m hoping we can go back there soon and there’s a spell on the demon tablet that will allows us to do that, but one of the ingredients is that you need something that’s been there. So, if I pop over there real quick, we can always use a piece of my hair for the spell. I’m not certain I could open the rift with my powers alone. I’m hoping I can at least close it.”

  
Your head was spinning, “Well, um, that’s quite a bomb to drop on us. Why haven’t you mentioned any of this before?”

  
“I figured we should deal with one world shattering crisis at a time. Even my head is exploding with everything that’s to come.”

  
“And would you tell us if we asked?”

  
She stared at you sincerely, “If you really need to know, I’ll tell you everything I know. But if you trust me enough, I think we should get through Jack’s birth and then go from there. But that’s completely up to you and Sam.”

  
She twiddled her thumbs nervously in her lap while you and Sam shared a knowing look, telepathically communicating. Finally, you relented, “Okay, but as soon as Jack is born . . .”

  
“Everything. I’ll tell you everything.”

  
“Hold up, I’m still confused about one thing,” Sam said, “Why would you want to go back to this apocalyptic world?”

  
She beamed from ear to ear, “Because, over there? There’s some old friends who need our help taking down Michael.”

  
“Michael? The archangel?” you queried. 

  
She nodded her head, “The one and only. Well, I guess he’s not the one and only, but yeah. And this Michael, he’s much more darker than the Michael here. Over there, he defeated Lucifer, but he kept the war going and the world suffered. Over there, some of your old friends are still fighting and I want to help them.”

  
You leaned forward with curiosity, “Who? Who’s over there?”

  
“Kevin for starters. But, there’s also Charlie and Bobby.”

  
“What? Are you serious!?”

  
“As a heart attack. Plus there’s a chance we can rescue the angel tablet. Maybe it will have more answers about who I am.

  
Sam looked at her in awe, “And you’d really be willing to try and save them?”

  
“Even without my powers, I wanted to. I know how much they all meant to you and how much they’re suffering over there. I’m not going to let Michael kill them.”

  
You grabbed her hand and stroked your thumb back and forth across her palm, “Well, sweetheart, looks like we got work to do.”

  
“We sure do.”

  
“Okay, my head is about to implode,” Sam stated, rubbing his temples. 

  
“See, that’s what I said we should cover one thing at a time.”

  
Sam stood up from his chair, “Yeah, right. So, I was actually going to run a few errands, maybe pick up some Chinese for dinner. Sound good?”

  
“Extra egg rolls,” you and her replied at the same time. 

  
Your brother shook his head, “And so it begins again. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

  
As soon as he was out of earshot she whispered, “Good, because I’ve been meaning to discuss something with you.”

  
You licked your lips, “Really? What is it?”

  
  


  
She playfully smacked your shoulder, “Later cowboy. Don’t look at me like that.”

  
“Like what?”

  
“Like you’re picturing me naked.”

  
“But I am.”

  
Her cheeks flushed, “When you look at me like that, it’s hard to concentrate.”

  
“Then it’s working.”

  
She simply shook her head and broke eye contact with you as she tried to organize her thoughts, “Trust me, later. But now, I need some advice about something.”

  
“Whether you should be on top or the bottom?”

  
“No, not that. I need advice about Sam.”

  
The imaginary sound of a record scratching echoed in your ears, “Wha- say what?”

  
“Ha! That got your attention, huh? So, his birthday is coming up and I know there’s no way I can make it as special for him as I did for you, but I’d like to at least try. I’ve already talked with your mother and she’s agreed to come down in a couple of days to celebrate, but I don’t know what to do about food. I got him a gag gift and I’m working on setting him up with a mini vacation out west where he can check out some serial killer tours about the Manson murders, the Zodiac killer and Ted Bundy.”

  
“Hold up. You’re telling me that he gets an entire vacation for his birthday?” you asked, a little insulted. 

  
“Hey hot stuff, you got a lot of good things, plus a blowjob that morning.”

  
You smiled at the memory of your birthday morning, “Okay, fair point.”

  
“Plus, I’ve been talking with your mother and it turns out she’s into all that true crime stuff, so she’s actually going to go with him.”

  
“What the hell?”

  
“You just said you’ve had some time with her on hunts, so this will give him time with her one on one as well.”

  
You rubbed a hand through your hair, “Not to sound ungrateful, sweetheart, but what the hell?!”

  
She laughed, “Hey, he was really good to me this last month when you were distant, so I wanna repay the favor. Plus, I honestly don’t know that much about his likes except he loves true crime and serial killers, so this was the best I could think of.”

  
“You knew all that stuff about me.”

  
“Yeah jackass, that’s because I paid more attention to you.”

  
You teased her, “Awww, you had a little crush on me, didn’t you?”

  
“Shut up,” she winked, “Anyway, it’s kind of like a backhanded gift to you.”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“Well, if your mother and Sam go off on this trip before Jack is born then that’ll give us some alone time . . .”

  
She let her voice trail off while you pondered what this would mean for you and her. A lightbulb clicked in your head, “So we?”

  
“We’ll have the bunker to ourselves. Exactly.”

  
You wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, “You have no idea what you’re in store for.”

  
She held her head up confidently, “You don’t either, Dean. Maybe we should make a list.”

  
“A list?” you asked in shock, “You have that much in mind?”

  
She nodded her head slowly, “Oh Dean, you have no idea. Now that I have a playmate, there’s lots of activities I want to do with you.”

  
“Game on,” you whispered against her lips before crashing your mouth onto hers. The two of you lazily made out, with her eventually straddling your lap, until you heard Sam call out from down the hallway that he was back with dinner. The next few days passed in a haze as she grilled you for ideas on what to make for Sam’s birthday meal. Eventually, you settled upon an eggplant parmesan lasagna for him and a meat lover’s lasagna for the carnivores. Sam was taken aback by your mother showing up, the decorations and the fact that (Y/N) took the time to hold him a birthday dinner. 

  
She gasped, “Of course you’re getting a birthday celebration too. I wouldn’t miss the chance to celebrate any of your birthdays. Mary, I was kind of new around yours, but I’ll make up for it this year.”

  
“No worries, hon,” she replied.

  
“Thanks,” Sam replied with a smile as he dug into his tiny slice of funfetti cake on the opposite side of the war room table where you all were seated for the celebratory dinner, “But hey, when’s your birthday?”

  
You spoke up, “She managed to get out of it this year. It was back in January on the nineteenth!”

  
“What? Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam asked. 

  
“Like I told Dean, I just . . . I don’t know it was so close to his birthday and we were going through a lot at the time. Plus, I feel like I’ve already kind of celebrated it, ya know? Being from the future and all,” she replied shyly. 

  
“Next year, we’re celebrating big time.”

  
“Thanks, Sam. Okay, time for presents!” she announced excitedly. 

  
Sam opened the smaller rectangular shaped gift and practically leaped out of his chair while (Y/N) bellowed with laughter. 

  
“What? What is it?” your mother asked. 

  
Sam held his hand to his chest, “Very funny, (Y/N).”

  
You peeked over the table and saw she had given him the DVD to the “_IT_” mini series from the eighties. You held up your hand to give her a high five, “Awesome! It’s your favorite movie, right Sammy?”

  
He just stared back and forth between you and her with contempt. When she finally caught her breath, she apologized, “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Oh, by the way, they’re making a remake of it. I think part one comes out later this year.”

  
“Movie night!” you shouted. 

  
Sam shook his head, “Yeah, uh no. You two have fun with that.”

  
She held out a card while your mother patted Sam comfortingly on the back, “Here, this is your real gift and I think it’ll more than make up for it.”

  
Sam took the card tentatively and slowly opened it up. He began reading the message inside and after a few moments, he looked up with wide eyes, “Seriously!?”

  
She nodded happily, “Mmhmm. You and your mom are taking a little vacation before Jack is born to tour some of the most infamous serial killer sites out west. Hotel, tickets and everything are already taken care of. You leave tomorrow morning.”

  
He stuttered, “But, how . . . what . . . I, I just can’t take off when Jack is about to be born. What if something comes up?”

  
She waved her hands, “Don’t worry, Dean and I got this. Besides, as far as I know, nothing much should come up between now and then. Dean and Mary have had some bonding time hunting, so you two go and share your macabre fascination with the sick and twisted minds of a few psychopaths.”

  
He looked back to his card and then up to her once more, “Thanks. This is great, really.”

  
“Don’t say I never gave you anything,” she teased. 

  
“So, what are you two gonna do while we’re gone?” Sam asked. 

  
You raised an eyebrow and wrapped an arm around your girl’s shoulders, “Don’t worry about us, we’ll be just fine.”

  
Sam looked you dead in the eye and warned, “Stay out of my room.”

  
Mary and (Y/N) chuckled at his joke and your girl reassured him, “We’ll be on our best behavior, Sam.”

  
“Speak for yourself,” you whispered in her ear. 

  
After everyone had turned in for the night, you and her were sitting on your bed, with her seated in between your legs, her back to your chest, while you watched “_Tombstone_” on your laptop that was positioned at the foot of the bed. You occasionally massaged her shoulders, kneading the knots out of her tensed muscles while she absentmindedly let out little moans and sighs of pleasure. The movie was about halfway over when her phone rang. She leaned forward and paused the movie before looking at her caller ID.

  
“Who’s calling you this late at night?” you asked. 

  
“Must be one of my other lovers looking for a booty call. Should I tell them I’m busy?”

  
You tickled her sides, “Oh, such a comedian.”

  
She laughed and fought off your attack before answering the call, “Hey Jody, is everything okay?”

  
“Jody?” you mouthed silently. She shrugged her shoulders and focused on the call while you leaned back against the bed, rubbing your hands up and down her arms as she listened to Jody speak. After a few seconds, she interrupted the sheriff, “Hold . . . Hold on Jody, let me put you on speaker so Dean can hear too.”

  
She pressed a button on her iPhone and held it up in her hand, “Okay, you’re on. Tell Dean what you just told me.”

  
“Hey Jody, what’s up?” you asked. 

  
“Hey Winchester, you treating my girl all right?” she asked. 

  
“Why does everybody ask me that?” you replied insulted. 

  
She giggled, “Yeah, we’ve worked everything out and we’re doing good now.”

  
“Good, good. So, I’m actually looking for a little help on a case,” Jody started to explain, “Donna actually brought me in on it. There were a couple of weird murders in her town and somehow they’ve bled over into my neck of the woods.”

  
You leaned forward slightly, “Any idea what it is?”

  
“No clue. We’re stumped,” Jody replied, “The victims were all stabbed to death with different weapons and we can’t seem to come up with a clear motive.”

  
“Do you think it’s one thing killing people?” (Y/N) asked. 

  
Jody sighed heavily, “No, that’s the thing, the murderer was someone the victim knew in each case.”

  
You furrowed your eyebrows, “I don’t know Jody, doesn’t really sound like our kind of case.”

  
“Well that’s what I thought too, but there’s some odd similarities between each case and it just seems like too much of a coincidence. If you’re busy, I understand, but Donna and I were hoping that a fresh pair of eyes would help crack the case.”

  
Before you could answer, your girl replied, “No worries Jody, we’re happy to help. We’ll leave tomorrow and be at your place by dinner. Sound good?”

  
“Sure thing. Chicken sound good, Dean?”

  
“Sounds awesome Jody. See you tomorrow,” you responded before (Y/N) hung up the call. 

  
Your girl leaned her head back and whined, “Damn it!”

  
“I know, looks like our little sexcation just got put on hold.”

  
She turned and looked to you, “Well, we could just move the party? Just because we’re going out on a case doesn’t mean we can’t spice it up.”

  
“What do you have cooking in that devious little mind of yours?” you asked with curiosity. 

  
She bit her lip, “Oh, I can’t go giving away all my secrets, now can I? Let’s just say it’ll be fun.”

  
You gently brushed your lips against hers, “Do I get any clues? What if I have ideas of my own?”

  
“I definitely can’t wait to see what those are, but you know what they say, ladies first. Trust me, you’ll like it. I’ll give you the details tomorrow, deal?”

  
You pushed her shoulder, urging her to lay back on the bed, “Fine, but tonight, you’re mine.”

  
You slid your hand up underneath her tank top to cup her bare breast. She arched her back, running her hands underneath the back of your shirt, “But what about the movie?”

  
You sat back on your knees to grab the laptop and closed it before sitting it on your bedside table, “Movie night is over.”

  
She grabbed two handfuls of your shirt and pulled you back down towards her, hooking her ankles around your waist. She planted soft, but firm kisses up your jaw until she reached your ear. She gently bit it before whispering, “Bring it on.”

  
You nuzzled her neck and replied gruffly, “Yes, ma’am.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
The next morning, you and the Winchester clan had a quick breakfast before Sam and Mary set off on their mini vacation. You and Dean both decided that you didn’t want them to cancel their trip and you would call them if things got out of hand. Plus, you two could still get some alone time, even if you were out on a hunt. You and Dean had spent about an hour on the road when he reached over and placed a hand on your bare thigh. It was such a nice, warm day out that you had decided to wear a yellow summer dress with your “_Little Mermaid_” cardigan. 

  
His calloused fingers squeezed your soft skin lightly before he lazily started stroking his thumb back and forth along your outer thigh. The air flowing in from the open windows of the Impala delicately blew his hair back and forth while Bob Seger’s “_Night Moves_” came on the radio. You reached down and patted his hand, “What you thinking about over there?”

  
He smirked, inching his hand up your leg, “I’m just wondering when you’re gonna tell me exactly what you have planned for me today.”

  
“Eager are we, Mr. Winchester?”

  
“More like, curious.”

  
You snickered, “Well, you know what curiosity did to the cat, don’t you?”

  
He pulled on your thigh, urging you to spread your legs for him, which you happily did. He licked his lips, “I think I’ll take my chances. I have pretty good luck when it comes to dying and coming back.”

  
Before he could move any further, you grabbed his wrist and placed it back on his own leg. He looked at you, confused, but you simply smiled and said, “I want to play a little game.”

  
He quirked an eyebrow, “Okay, Jigsaw. Are there rules to this game?”

  
  


You leaned over and placed your hand on his own thigh before whispering as low and seductively as you could in his ear, “There’s just one rule. You can’t come until I say you can.”

  
You sat back and saw him visibly shiver. His Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed a couple of times before asking, “What do I get if I win?”

  
You ran a hand down your neck, letting your fingers dance across the top of your breasts, “If you’re a good boy and win, you get to do the same to me. But, if you’re a bad boy, well, you get to come and that’s it.”

  
“Sounds like I can’t lose,” he replied huskily. 

  
“Not really, but if you want a chance to pay back the favor to me, you’ll win. So, what do you say. Are you . . . _up_ . . . for the challenge?”

  
He smiled cockily, “Well, I’m not the one to turn down a bet, especially with you. Let’s see what you got, sweetheart.”

  
You slid your hand up until it was directly over his crotch. He hissed, his grip tightening on the steering wheel, when he felt your hand cup his softened member. You leisurely began to stroke him through his jeans, but he quickly hardened under your touch. He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself so his cock could stretch out in one leg of his pants. Meanwhile, you grabbed one of his hands off the steering wheel, bringing it up to your mouth to suck on his index and middle fingers. You licked his long digits several times before pulling them out with an audible *_pop_*. 

  
“Fuck, (Y/N), you keep that up, I’m gonna have to pull over.”

  
You smiled deviously at him, “Nuh uh, keep driving.” You lowered his hand back to your thigh while you continued to run your other hand back and forth along his impressive length. You spread your legs wider, your dress riding up further and further until you were exposed to him. You waited until he glanced over, taking in the sight to his side. 

  
He grunted roughly, “Jesus Christ, are you not wearing any underwear?”

  
You bit your lip, “Nope.”

  
“You planned this didn’t you,” he grunted as he started to shallowly thrust into your hand, searching for more friction. 

  
You nodded and simply ordered back, “Touch me, Dean. I want you to touch me.”

  
You heard him whine when you removed your hand from his cock to reach up and cup your own breast while your other hand remained on top of his, guiding him towards the apex of your thighs so he could scratch the itch that you were sure would never go away as long as you lived. His fingers brushed against your wet slit, easily sliding past your outer folds. You pushed yourself forward, sinking yourself onto him in one, swift motion. 

  
You moaned, throwing your head back at the pleasurable completeness you felt whenever you and Dean were connected like this, “Sweet Jesus.”

  
He pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, “Is this what you want?” he asked.

  
You strengthened your grip on his hand, urging him to move faster, “Shit. Yes . . . Yes, Dean.”

  
“Look at you, so hungry for me, didn’t even wear any panties. Already soaking wet by the time I touch you. Such a horny little slut for me aren’t you?”

  
“Mmhmm,” was all you managed to utter back. That coil in your lower abdomen was starting to tighten as his deep voice echoed throughout the car, uttering dirty praises. 

  
“My powerful soulmate, brought to her damn knees, speechless, by just two,” he inserted a third finger into your tight, hot cunt, “make that three, of my fingers.”

  
You released your breast to reach back and grab the headrest of the seat, trying to give yourself more leverage to shamelessly fuck yourself against Dean’s hand. Your mouth was slack jawed to take in erratic breaths. When he angled his hand to start rubbing tight circles on your clit, you mewled and felt the eyes roll to the back of your head. 

  
All your muscles started to constrict, tensing up to focus on the erotic bliss emanating from your pussy. In the back of your mind, you knew it was impossible, but you swore you felt Dean cup your right breast with his other hand, the one that should’ve been on the steering wheel. He yanked down the top of your scoop neck dress to thumb you nipple over the thin fabric of your white bra. His stubble scraped against your neck as he kissed you furiously and whispered hoarsely, “Come on (Y/N). Come for me.”

  
You ground into his hand several more times before all the tension in your body snapped, fireworks exploding behind your closed eyes. You cried out an incoherent moan as your orgasm crashed down, causing your legs to twitch and spasm. Dean continued to softly pump into you for several minutes, easing you down from your high. 

  
You let out a soft cry, opening your eyes slightly, when he finally removed himself from inside of you. You watched in fascination as he brought his hand up to his mouth, licking each finger one by one to clean himself off. That’s when you noticed for the first time that he had pulled off on the side of the road. 

  
You nodded towards your surroundings, “I thought you were supposed to be driving.”

  
You tasted yourself for a brief moment as kissed you passionately before replying, “I was about to drive us off the road. You are so damn gorgeous when you come.”

  
You snapped your fingers, cleaning his hand and yourself up, “Oh, am I now?”

  
He nodded his head, no trace of a smile a laugh on his face as he cupped your cheeks and kissed you once more. You ran your hand through the back of his head, threading your fingers through his silky hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. He ultimately ended up being the one to pull away, sitting back in his seat and taking a deep breath. Your eyes lowered to his crotch and you could see the impressive outline of his still hardened cock. You squeezed his thigh, “How you doin’ over there slugger?”

  
He exhaled sharply, “I think, I underestimated you and this is going to be a lot harder than I thought it was.”

  
“Oh, it’s going to be hard all right,” you teased. 

  
“So, what, I’m just suppose to keep driving like this now?” he asked looking down at his boner.

  
“Them’s the rules.”

  
He shook his head and uttered just under his breath, “Fuck me.”

  
You leaned over to kiss his cheek, “Oh, I will Dean. Just you wait.”

  
He adjusted himself once more in his seat before turning over Baby’s ignition, “You just keep on surprising me sweetheart.”

  
“That’s the goal, babe,” you replied, biting your lip and surreptitiously admiring his gorgeous profile for the next few miles, blissed out in the afterglow of your orgasm. 

  
The rest of the trip was monotonous, the two of you contempt to sit in silence and enjoy the ride. You noticed he relaxed more and more as his cock slowly softened to the point where you could no longer visibly see it pressing against the denim of his jeans. You secretly snapped your fingers, putting on a pair of underwear now that your planned tryst had been completed. There was no way you were going to see Jody and the girls sans panties. 

  
About twenty minutes out from Jody’s house, you started to get nervous. You were fidgeting in your seat, fanning your underarms and constantly checking the GPS to see how far out you were. Dean must’ve noticed because he asked, “What in the hell is going on over there?”

  
“What do you mean?” you replied back, checking the GPS for the third time in a minute.

  
“You’re squirming around like you’re covered in itching powder.”

  
You pulled down the visor to check your hair in the mirror, “I guess . . .ugh, I don’t know. I guess I’m just nervous.”

  
He glanced over at you with a crazed look in his eye, “Why? It’s just Jody and the girls.”

  
You huffed, “I know, but . . . it’s the first time I’m going to meet Alex and Donna. Donna is,” you sighed heavily, twiddling your thumbs as you babbled on, “She’s _Donna_. She’s just as cool as Jody and I’ve looked up to her for a long time and I know she’s your friend and I just want her to like me.”

  
He grabbed your left hand and kissed the back of it, “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure you’ve already won Jody and Claire over. As for Donna and Alex, I’m sure they’re gonna love you.”

  
His comforting touch helped to settle your nerves. You squeezed his hand, “Thanks, Dean.”

  
He gave you one of his knee weakening smiles, “No problem, sweetheart.”

  
Before you knew it, you had parked in Jody’s driveway and were walking hand in hand up the walkway towards the front door with Dean. He rang the doorbell and you heard shuffling on the other side of the door. After a few moments, the door opened and you were greeted by the sheriff of Sioux Falls, “Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes. Come on in.”

  
She pushed the door open and held out an arm, gesturing you two to come inside. As soon as you saw your first female friend in this world smiling warmly at you, you relaxed. You reached out to Jody and pulled her into a hug, “Hey Jody! It’s been way too long.”

  
She squeezed you back, “It has. It’s good to see you again. I’m glad to see you two kissed and made up.”

  
“It wasn’t easy, but I think we’re moving in the right direction.”

  
Dean’s eyes shifted back and forth between you and Jody, “Exactly how much does she know?”

  
“Pretty much everything.”

  
“Everything, everything?” he asked, obviously referring to your powers and Jack. 

  
“I gave her the basic rundown of what I am and what’s going on with Kelly and Lucifer, so they’re all caught up to speed. I told you Dean, I’m not going to lie to you or anyone anymore. I have nothing to hide.”

  
He turned his focus to Jody, “And you’re cool with the devil baby mama drama?”

  
Jody released you from her embrace, “If our girl here says we can trust him, I’m gonna give him a shot. She’s the one from the future.”

  
Dean rolled his eyes and Jody took a few steps towards him. “Come here Winchester,” she ordered as she forced a hug upon him. 

  
You shrugged off your cardigan, “So, where’s everybody else?”

  
Jody gave Dean a pat on the back before turning back to face you, “Alex is running a little late from her shift at the hospital.”

  
“Yeah, I understand that. How’s the nursing life treating her?”

  
The three of you headed towards the living room to take a seat. You and Dean sat down next to each other on the couch while Jody took the chair to your left, “She’s good. She loves it and there’s even been talk about her getting promoted to charge nurse.”

  
“Good for her,” Dean said as he took your hand back in his. Jody noticed the gesture and you and her shared a smile that went unnoticed by Dean. 

  
“What about Claire and Donna?” you asked. 

  
“Claire is in the bathroom and we ran out of wine, so Donna made a run to the liquor store,” Jody answered just as you the sound of a heavy duty truck pulling into the driveway rumbled through the walls. “Sounds like that’s her. Everything else is pretty much ready. You guys are hungry, right?”

  
“Absolutely,” you and Dean replied at the same time. 

  
You stood up from the couch, smoothing your dress and tossing your hair over your shoulder one last time as you prepared to meet one of your favorite wayward sisters. Dean was standing behind you, but bent forward and whispered, “Relax. You’re fine.”

  
You nodded your head and hesitantly followed Jody towards her front door. Donna came marching in, her gorgeous blonde hair pulled up into her signature ponytail. It was surprising to see her full figured body clad in jeans, a white t-shirt and purple striped, plaid flannel, instead of her typical sheriff’s uniform. She handed off the her liquor store haul to Jody before removing her brown jacket to hang on the coat rack in the entryway.

  
“Well Jody,” she stated in her Minnesota accent, “I think we are set for the night.”

  
Jody shift the bags in her arms, “Uh, yeah. I’d say. Did you leave anything for anybody else that might want wine.”

  
“Just a few bottles. I saw the car out front. Are they here?”

  
Jody pointed her head towards you and Donna made eye contact with you for the first time. Her eyes shone brightly as her face lit up with a smile warm enough to melt the polar ice caps. She held out her arms and strode confidently towards you, “Hiya (Y/N). Bring it on in.”

  
You were frozen in place at her unexpected, immediate friendliness towards you. After all, you were essentially a completely stranger to her. Dean placed a hand on the small of your back and nudged you forward just in time for you to meet the other sheriff in a bear hug. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, enveloping you in her homely embrace. 

  
“Donna, it’s, it’s so good to meet you,” you whispered just barely loud enough for her to hear. 

  
She pushed you back gently and held you at arm’s length to examine you, “Yeah, you too. Jodio has told me all about you.”

  
You chuckled nervously, “Only good things I hope.”

  
“Oh, you betcha. From what I can tell, that’s all there is to tell.”

  
Dean stepped up beside you, “Hmph, she must not be telling the whole truth then,” he added teasingly.

  
Donna gave you one final small hug before turning to point a finger at Dean, “And you, are you treating our girl well?”

  
Dean shrugged his shoulders, throwing up his hands, “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

  
“Because they know you,” a new voice pronounced from a few feet away. 

  
You headed over to the young hunter to greet her, “Claire! It’s good to see you again.”

  
She held up a hand like she was going to stop you from forcing your affection upon her. You playfully smacked her hand away and embraced her tightly, “Hey, I saved you from being an extra on “_Teen Wolf_”.”

  
“Whatever,” she replied with her standoffish attitude before secretly hugging you back. 

  
“Don’t play coy with me biker Barbie,” you mumbled low enough so only she could hear.

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
Eventually, everyone had greeted one another and Alex showed up just in time for dinner. She and your girl had welcomed each other like they had known each other for years. It was surprising and comforting how easily (Y/N) had managed to blend into the family. After she spent a few minutes with the girls in the kitchen putting the final touches on dinner, Donna and Alex were instantly enamored with her, just like you knew they would be. You were just finishing setting the table when she strolled out from the kitchen with a glass of white wine in one hand and a red wine in the other. 

  
She handed the latter to you, “Hey, got you a drink.”

  
You accepted it before pulling her in for a quick kiss, “How you feeling?”

  
She exhaled sharply, “A lot better. I don’t even know why I was nervous in the first place.”

  
“See there. Now are you gonna tell me I was right?” you teased, “Come on, I know you can do it. Just say, ‘Dean, you were right’.”

  
She scoffed and replied back in a deep voice, meant to mimic yours, “Heh, heh, yeah never gonna happen, sweetheart.”

  
Before the two of you could continue your banter, the rest of the crew appeared with bowls and plates of delicious food. Jody had really outdone herself, fixing rotisserie chicken, mashed potatoes, rolls, green beans and corn on the cob. You all settled around the table, with you and your girl on one side, the younger girls opposite of you and Jody and Donna at the ends of the table. The six of you took a few minutes to settle in and fix a plate of food before getting down to business. 

  
(Y/N) took a sip of her white wine before turning to Donna, “So, what can you tell us about the case?”

  
Donna swallowed the bite of chicken she was chewing on, “Well, the first case really wasn’t that strange.”

  
“Who do you think the first vic was?”

  
“A man, David Jones, gosh. He was just an ordinary fella. Ran his own accounting business in Stillwater. Even did my taxes every year. On the night of he and his wife’s wedding anniversary, he stabbed her and then killed himself. He didn’t show up for one work the next day and his assistant couldn’t reach him, so she went to his house. Found them both dead upstairs in their bedroom.”

  
“Was there any note or any reason why he would’ve killed her?” you asked. 

  
“No, nobody can figure it out,” Donna replied. She took a sip of her drink before continuing, “The sad part was, he did it with a hunting knife she had bought him as an anniversary gift.”

  
“Wow,” Alex mumbled. 

  
Claire spoke up, obviously excited to be included at the “big kids” table on this hunt, “So what about the second murder. What happened there?”

  
Donna shook her head solemnly, “That one was even worse. A high school girl, Leslie . . . she . . . she . . .”

  
“It’s okay Donna, take your time,” Jody commented reassuringly. 

  
Donna gave her a quick smile, “It’s just, Leslie and my niece, Wendy, they’ve been friends since kindergarten. Leslie was big into baking competitions and she had been runner up in the county fair’s pie-a-thon two years in a row. She was trying to perfect her recipe for this year’s competition while her brother and his best friend were working on their homework and serving as taste testers for her. Her brother left for just a few minutes to use the bathroom and heard screaming. He ran back in just in time to see Leslie standing over his friend’s dead body. Before he could ask her why she did it, she slit her wrists in front of him.”

  
(Y/N)’s voice was shaky, “Oh Donna, I’m so, so sorry.”

  
Donna held her head high, “Yeah, it’s been rough for all of us.”

  
You gave her a few moments to gather her thoughts before asking, “So, what made you think the two cases were related?”

  
Jody answered, “Donna was talking to me about the case and I knew right away something was up.”

  
(Y/N) saw you reaching for the potatoes, so she grabbed them and passed them to you, “What do you mean, Jody?”

  
“The other day, I was outside mowing the grass. My neighbor, Kristen, she was watering her flowers when all of a sudden, her sister’s husband came barreling down the street. He stopped in front of her house, not even bothering to turn off his car. He made a beeline for her. I didn’t notice the letter opener in his hand and he . . . he started to stab her.”

  
Claire choked on the bite of chicken in her mouth. She coughed a couple of times and finally asked, “Right in front of you? The sheriff?”

  
Jody nodded, “I ran inside and grabbed my gun. I was able to shoot him in the shoulder just as he was about to slit his throat. I detained him and he’s being held down at the station under a psychiatric watch. He just keeps apologizing and doesn’t seem to remember a thing.”

  
You looked back and forth between the two sheriffs, “I mean, that’s all really tragic, but I’m still not getting how they’re related.”

  
“We’re not sure either, but, something in my gut is telling me that this is no coincidence,” Jody said. 

  
(Y/N) nodded her head, “Yeah, something’s off.”

  
“Do you have any idea what’s going on. Did you see anything like this happen in your world (Y/N), like you did with the werewolf and me?” Claire queried. 

  
“Thanks for that by the way,” Jody added, patting your girl on the arm.

  
She smiled, “No problem. Glad to help. But no, unfortunately nothing like this every popped up in an episode.”

  
“Well, doesn’t sound like a demonic possession,” you commented refilling your wine glass. “Their whole purpose of possession is to keep a meat suit to cause as much destruction as possible.”

  
“It almost reminds me of either a cursed object or ghost possession,” she said, thinking aloud, “kind of like that case you and Sam worked with Garth. Remember?”

  
“Oh yeah,” you replied, “The tomb of the unknown confederate soldier in Missouri. The cursed penny on a string that made whoever possessed it go after someone they had a grudge with.”

  
“Exactly. Donna, Jody, do you know if there was any green goo or black stuff at the crime scene or leaking out of the murderer’s eyes or ears?” 

  
The two sheriffs shared a knowing look before Jody replied, “Yeah, actually there was. I saw black stuff oozing out of Daniel’s ears when I arrested him.”

  
“I don’t remember anything like that being documented in my cases, but I can check them again,” Donna added. 

  
Claire stepped in, “But wait, if there was one thing in that other case causing people to kill, what’s being passed around here that’s making everyone go all Norman Bates on their friends and family?”

  
You pointed at her, “Bingo. That’s the sixty four thousand dollar question.”

  
You all sat in silence for several seconds, mentally processing the case. Eventually, your girl spoke up, “I think we need to try and find out what the connection is between the murderer and the victim and then how these people knew each other, if at all. Once we figure that out, maybe we can find the source of whatever is causing this. Claire, how do you feel about heading over to Stillwater tomorrow and trying to get more information out of Leslie’s friends? Donna, maybe Wendy will be more open to talking to Claire since she’s closer to their age?”

  
“Sure, I’m up for that,” Claire agreed. 

  
“Yeah, I’ll give you Wendy’s number,” Donna added, “Plus, like I said I’ll recheck the files and talk with my deputies to see if they noticed any odd substances at the crime scene that they may have forgot to report.”

  
Your girl nodded her head, “Perfect. Jody, Dean and I can met you at the station tomorrow morning to take a look at the case files with a fresh pair of eyes and I’d like to talk to Daniel. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m getting pretty good at getting people to give me information.”

  
Jody sat up straight and looked impressed, “Really?”

  
You had to agree with her, “It’s true.”

  
“Okay then,” Jody replied, “My shift starts at nine. Meet you two there then?”

  
You clinked your utensils down onto your empty plate, “It’s a date.”

  
“Oh, wait, wait, before I forget, I have a gift for everyone,” she announced excitedly. She crossed her arms in front of her and blinked her eyes. 

  
You shook your head, “What are you doing over there Jeannie?”

  
“Girls, in front of you, you will find a gift from me.”

  
Claire held up the black, rectangular piece of plastic and smiled, “Is this a credit card?”  
  


  
“Exactly,” your girl replied proudly, “You shouldn’t have to worry about money if you’re out there hunting. No limit and it resets every month. Just don’t go too crazy with it.”

  
Jody stammered, “We, no, no, no, we can’t accept these. It’s too much.”

  
Alex tried to hand the card to her, “Yeah, I mean, I’m not even really a hunter.”

  
(Y/N) waved a hand at the card, “Nonsense. You help out and I’m not going to leave anyone out. Please, it makes me feel helpful that I can at least make sure you don’t have to worry about money while putting your life on the line.”

  
You could see the other four were hesitating to accept her gift, so you spoke up, “Go ahead, take it. She’s giving them out like candy. Plus, if you don’t take it now, she’ll just find someway to make sure you do later. She’s pushy like that.”

  
“Exactly. So you ladies can take it, or take it.”

  
Donna tapped her card against the table several times, “All righty, looks like we have no choice.”

  
Claire quickly tucked her card into her back pocket, “Cool. Thanks.”

  
After insisting on helping Jody clean up the dishes, you and your girl finally headed out to check into your hotel room for the night. However, just as you were climbing into the Impala, she tilted her head and bit her lip, “You know, it’s still kind of early.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“I have an idea, if you think you can handle it . . . old man.”

  
“Pffft, old man my ass. What do you have up your sleeves there?”

  
“Just drive and follow my directions.”

  
Fifteen minutes you were sitting in a gravel parking lot. The rocks scraped against the shoes of those walking by, making their way to the attraction of dancing lights and tinkling sounds several hundred feet away, being drawn in like a moth to the flame. You inhaled, taking in the sweet smell of buttered popcorn, cotton candy and deep fried everything. 

  
“A carnival? Really?” you asked skeptically. 

  
“Awww, come on, it’ll be fun. I saw the signs when we were coming into town and thought it’d be fun to hit it up if we had time tonight. After all, sounds like we’re gonna be busy with this case for the next couple of days. We deserve some fun.”

  
“Oh, I can think of a whole lot of other fun we could be having.”

  
She looked at you seriously, “Dean, when was the last time you went to a carnival?”

  
“I, I uh, I don’t know. Sam and I went once when we were kids,” you smiled at the long ago forgotten memory she had managed to dig up from the deep recesses of your mind. “Yeah, Dad was hunting a revenant and gave us a little cash for food. I snuck Sam out and of course we didn’t have enough for tickets, so I broke into the office and stole a roll.”

  
She laughed, “Of course you did.”

  
“There must’ve been a couple hundred tickets on that thing. We rode rides all night long. Best part was, I ended up selling some of the tickets to these other kids at a discount and Sammy and I pigged out on funnel cakes and corn dogs.”

  
“Sam ate something deep fried?” she asked in disbelief. 

  
“Yeah, but he was just a kid. Probably the last time he ever ate anything like that.”

  
She started to open her door, “Well, sounds like you’re long overdue for another funnel cake then. Plus, if you’re really nice to me, I’ll let you win me a prize.”

  
“You’ll let me?”

  
She nodded her head and got out of the car. She closed her door and bent down to peek in through the open window, “Well, what’s it gonna be Dean. You in or you out?”

  
You rolled your eyes before winking at her, “Fine, fine, you twisted my arm.”

  
Much to your dismay, she was right about having fun. The two of you spent the next few hours playing the rigged games, which she would occasionally win with a surreptitious flick of her wrists, always puzzling the workers. Years of hustling darts allowed you to easily burst several balloons at another game, winning her a cliched white, stuff teddy bear a red bow tied around its neck that she thanked you for profusely, even briefly rushing back to the car to stow it safely away so it wouldn’t get lost. You were just getting off the tilt-a-whirl for the third time when you walked past a group of young teenagers. 

  
One young boy was dressed in ratty jeans and a t-shirt that had obviously been passed down to him as it was two sizes too big. He tossed his scruffy hair out of his face and pleaded, “Come on guys, I don’t have enough tickets for the roller coaster. Can’t we do something else?”

  
“No way,” another boy wearing a Nike jacket and Air Jordan sneakers replied, “We’ve already skipped out on other things. Sorry if you don’t have enough, but we’re going.”

  
The group of boys started to leave him, but he called out, begging for them to stop, “Come on, guys. Guys?” When they were out of ear shot, he kicked the ground and uttered, “Son of a bitch.”

  
She chuckled and approached the young boy, “Sucks when you’re working on a budget huh?”

  
The boy tucked one hand into his jeans and took a step back, “I, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  
“You wanted to go on the ride with your friends, right?”

  
He adamantly denied it, “No, no, no. I hate roller coasters. I’ll just go on the next one.”

  
“What’s your name kid?”

  
He stammered, “J-Jordan.”

  
She smiled, “Jordan. It’s nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N) and this is Dean. As luck would have it, we’re actually getting ready to leave and we have all these tickets we’re not going to use.” In the hand she had behind her back, she made a stack of tickets appear. She held them out in front of her, “Do you think you’d use them if we couldn’t?”

  
The boy hesitated, “Oh, no, ma’am, I, I couldn’t take these.”

  
“Please, you’d be doing us a favor. I’d hate for them to go to waste.”

  
He reached for the tickets, “Are you sure?”

  
“Absolutely,” she replied, plopping the gift into his welcoming hands. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, “As a matter of fact, take this too. Get you something greasy and dipped in fried dough to eat. Nothing healthy, got it?”

  


  
His face lit up, “Yeah, sure thing. Thank you (Y/N).”

  
“Now, run along. If you hurry, maybe you can catch your friends.”

  
With that, the boy tucked his presents into his pockets and ran off after his peers. She turned around and you immediately pulled her into your arms, crashing your lips onto hers in a heated kiss. She gasped in shock, but soon tangled her hands in your hair, becoming an active partner in the kiss. 

  
“What was that for?” she asked when you finally broke away. 

  
“Because you’re awesome,” you replied, tucking her hair behind her ears. 

  
She blushed, “Well, I know what it’s like growing up not being able to afford the little extras. When we get some free time, I really need to do more good for this world. I have all this power, I . . . I should be out at children’s hospitals and food banks and stuff, paying it forward.”

  
You stood up on your toes, examining the top of her head, moving her hair around to look at her scalp. She laughed and swatted you away, “What are you doing?”

  
“Oh, just looking for your halo. I can’t seem to find it.”

  
She playfully shoved you in the chest, “Shut up. I just, I have this gift and I wanna share it with the world, ya know?”

  
You cupped her chin, “Well, for tonight, you’re still mine.”

  
“Oh am I?”

  
You nodded your head before pulling her in for another slow, sweet kiss. 

  
She gave you a quick peck, “Okay scaredy cat, how about one more ride?”

  
“Uh, pretty sure we’ve hit up everything here at least twice sweetheart.”

  
She clicked her tongue several times, “Nu uh, there’s one you’ve been strategically avoiding.” She titled her head, signaling towards the Ferris wheel. 

  
You swallowed hard and denied her accusations, “No, we’ve just been riding the good stuff. I mean, why, why would we want to ride that boring thing.”

  
She smiled softly, “Look, taunting aside, I know you have a thing about flying, so I’m assuming heights aren’t too too far behind that. So, if you really don’t want to ride it, we don’t have to. But, I think it’d be fun.”

  
Her eyes were shining bright with restrained excitement and you knew she would leave right now if you wanted to. She wasn’t wrong. The idea of riding forty feet in the air in a rickety metal seat that hadn’t had maintenance in God knows how long with only a thin metal bar to keep you from plummeting to your death was not the way you wanted to be taken out of this world. 

  
She stroked your cheek with the back of her hand before tracing the outline of your jaw with her index finger, “Hey, if it helps, just know that I can always save us if something goes wrong. So, what do you say?”

  
You took a deep breath and the next thing you knew the carny running this windmill of death was shutting the safety bar across your and (Y/N)’s lap. The rusty piece of metal shutting with a harsh *_CLANK_*. Instead of feeling secure, you felt like you were being locked up in prison cell. Despite the pouring sweat from your palm, she held onto your hand fiercely. The wheel jerked forward so the next couple could be loaded up into this death trap and your heart started to beat so fast, you swore it was going to jump right out of your chest. You closed your eyes and took in a few more deep breaths, trying to calm yourself, but the blood pounding in your ears made it difficult to focus. 

  
She placed a firm hand on your chest and spoke calmly, “Dean, look at me.” You shook your head, so she commanded more forcefully, “Dean Winchester. Look. At. Me.” You exhaled sharply and finally turned to look her in the eyes. “Good boy. Now, put your hand on my chest.”

  
You were so focused on your own fear, you didn’t even try to cop a feel, but instead followed her orders, placing your hand just below her neck. She grinned, “Good, now . . .”

  
The wheel jerked forward once again and started to move steadily. Your breathing was becoming erratic and you felt dizzy from the whole experience, but her voice pulled you back to reality. 

  
“Dean, focus on me. Focus on my voice. Now, feel me take a deep breath in and slowly let it out. I want you to do the same.”

  
You closed your eyes again and tried to match your breathing to the rise and fall of her own chest, but it was too much. She patted your chest, “It’s okay. Take your time. Focus on my breathing, Dean. In and out. Slow breath deep in through your nose like you’re smelling a flower and slow breath out of those gorgeous lips of yours like you’re blowing out some birthday candles.”

  
The cool night air sent shivers down your back as it blew across your face, wiping away the faint trace of sweat that had gathered at your brow. You tried to block out everything else and concentrate on your girl and her breathing. After a minute, the pounding in your ears dissipated and your breathing had slowed to mimic hers. 

  
“Good. You’re doing great, Dean. Now, when you open your eyes, I want you to look straight out. Don’t look down and just try to appreciate the view.”

  
Tentatively, you opened your eyes and saw she was staring at you with encouragement. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of judgment or pity in her face, only unconditional support. You took in another deep breath and looked past her to take in the view. You had missed the part where the ride had stopped and now the two of you were perched at the precipice of the wheel. 

  
“Wow,” you uttered in awe at the sight of the view. The immediate area was illuminated up from the carnival, but then the landscape darkened for a bit before lighting up again with the faint glow from the homes and businesses of Sioux Falls. 

  
She rubbed her hand back and forth across your chest, “So, worth it?”

  
You looked back to her, moving your hand up to her neck to pull her closer, “Absolutely.”

  
You placed your forehead on hers and just stared at her for several seconds before inching forward to kiss her. The green apple chapstick she had applied moments before getting on the ride rubbed off onto your lips as the two of you lazily kissed. The wind whipped her hair around, tickling your face. Her body heat was warm and inviting as she pressed herself further into you. Suddenly, the moment was broken when a stranger cleared their throat. 

  
“Sorry, the ride’s over,” the middle aged man controlling the ride announced. 

  
She turned her head briefly and stated, “No it’s not, you’re going to let us go again.”

  
As if he had been hypnotized, the employee repeated her words, “No it’s not, you get to go again.”

  
He clicked a button on the control panel and moved on to the next cart. She cupped your cheek, letting her fingers play in your stubble, “Is that ok? I didn’t think we were quite done yet.”

  
Instead of answering, you simply tightened your grip on her neck and pulled her back in for another taste of her delectable lips. After a few more rounds on the Ferris wheel, the two of you decided it was time to head out to the hotel. Her legs were covered in goosebumps by the time you started to walk back to the car, but she never complained. You shrugged off your coat, and forced her to put it on. 

  
“_Damn, she looks good in my clothes._”

  
You wrapped a protective arm around her and strolled towards the parking lot. She leaned her head against your shoulder, “So, did you have a good time?”

  
You hem hawed, “Eh, it was okay I guess.”

  
She shoved her shoulder into you, “You’re such a jerk.”

  
“Bitch,” you replied instinctively. 

  
You felt the blood drain from your face as she stopped in her tracks to stare incredulously at you. You started to stammer an apology , “Sweetheart, I . . . I . . .”

  
Before you could say anything word, she bent over double, clutching her stomach in laughter. She cackled so loudly that other people passing by stopped briefly to gawk at the two of you. Finally, she raised up, tears running down her face. She waved a hand in front of her, “It’s ok, Dean, really. I’m sure it was just a reflex.”

  
“Are you sure, because I would never . . .”

  
She took a step forward until you two were practically chest to chest, “Seriously, it’s fine. I know you wouldn’t really call me that. But, all bets are off in the bedroom . . .”

  
Your face dropped in disbelief, “You mean . . . Really?”

  
She stepped backwards and crooked a finger, “Mmhmm. I love when you talk dirty to me. Now, you ready to take me to the hotel?”

  
“Hell yeah,” you replied, picking up your pace to catch up to her. 

  
From the time you got into the Impala until you pulled into the parking lot of the “_Grandstay Hotel & Suites_” she had been all over you. Running her hand through your hair, kissing your neck and stroking you through your jeans. Thankfully, the two of you had stopped to check in before going over to Jody’s for dinner, so you didn’t have to worry about stopping to talk to anybody. You made her walk in front of you, concealing your obvious hard on from the wandering gaze of any guests lingering in the lobby. 

  
In the elevator, she licked her lips and winked before hitting the red emergency stop button on the keypad, jolting the elevator to a halt. In a flash, she was on her knees, unbuckling your belt and pulling down your jeans just far enough to whip out your cock. 

  
“(Y/N)?” you asked in shock, “What are you doing?”

  
She licked a stripe down her palm before firmly wrapping her small, warm hand around you and pumping twice before answering with a question, “Do you want me to stop?”

  
You leaned against the wall, throwing your head back, “Fuck . . . No . . . Don’t stop.”

  


She moved her hand in long, slow strokes, using her other hand to fondle your balls while her velvety tongue licked softly just underneath the crown of your cock. You tried to grab a handful of her hair, but she smacked you away, clicking her tongue in disapproval. She carried on like this for several minutes before abruptly stopping to stuff you back into your pants. The tightness of the denim against your flesh was almost unbearable. She pressed the emergency button again and the elevator resumed its ride up towards your room. She turned around, grinding her ass into your crotch and you couldn’t help but to grab her hips, holding her tightly against you. 

  
“Remember, don’t come,” she whispered over her shoulder. 

  
You grunted deeply, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  
“Hey, you’ve had it pretty easy today, remember?”

  
The door rang out with a *_ding_*, signaling you had arrived to your floor. She grabbed your hand, pulling you down the hallway. Once you made it into the room, she tossed her cardigan and your jacket onto the couch before turning around to face you. You caught her off guard by snatching the hem of her dress to pull it up and over her head, leaving her in a high cut white pair of panties and matching bra. 

  
You quirked an eyebrow, “I didn’t think you were wearing any . . .”

  
She smiled seductively, “I put them on before we went to Jody’s.” She hooked a finger on either side and shimmied out of them, “Of course, I don’t need them anymore now do I?”

  
You let out a primal growl as you worked to rid yourself of your own clothing, “Fuck no.”

  
She reached around to undo her bra before ordering you to the bed. You complied, watching in awe as she climbed on top and lowered herself onto you. She was already so wet and warm for you and when she squeezed your cock with her tight pussy, you almost lost it right then and there. She bent down to kiss your chest, focusing on your tattoo before taking a moment suck your right nipple into her mouth, flicking her tongue back and forth across the sensitive flesh. 

  
You ran your hands up her thighs, working towards her hips, “Please, (Y/N).”

  
You felt her smile as she moved her attention to your other nipple. You tightened your grip, digging your fingers into her, “Move. Please, move.”

  
She lifted her head just barely enough to look you in the eye, “Fuck Dean, it’s so hot when you beg. Any idea how wet that gets me?”

  
You cleared your throat and tried to steady your voice, “I’m, I’m not begging.”

  
“Sure about that?” She asked as she clutched your stiffened member once more with her internal muscles. 

  
You hissed through your teeth, “Shit! Okay, fine, fine, whatever. Just please, move before I throw you down onto this bed.”

  
Her breath was hot as she inched forward to whisper against your lips, “Don’t come.”

  
With that, she sat up, raising herself almost off of you completely before slamming herself back down onto you. 

  
“Jesus Christ,” you yelped as she started to fuck you with a harsh, quick, unrelenting pace. Her breasts jiggled, their movements hypnotizing like a pendulum, as she bounced up and down on your cock. She started to grind herself hard on your pubic bone every time she came down. She lightly dug her nails into your chest, eyes shut tightly as she worked herself towards her own release. You did your best to ignore the sounds of skin slapping against skin to focus on non sexual matters, fighting off your own orgasm. 

  
“_Okay, okay, decapitation for a ghoul. Silver for werewolves. Dead man’s blood will slow down a vampire . . . Shit she’s making that little high pitching whining sound right before she comes. Okay, refocus . . . Salt and iron to ward off ghosts. . . ._”

  
She took in a deep breath before moaning out your name, thrusting herself against you a handful more times as she came on top of you. She collapsed on your chest and you slowly slid yourself out of her to turn on your side. She rolled over to face you, “Holy shit, wow.”

  
You rubbed her back and signaled down to your still hardened cock, “You’re not just gonna leave a poor guy hanging, are you?”

  
She smiled wickedly, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Night, Dean.”

  
You scoffed in disbelief, “Seriously?” 

  
She snuggled into your chest, “Trust me, it’ll be worth the wait.”

  
A few minutes later, she was snoring softly, her breath fanning across your exposed torso. After a while of tossing and turning, the ache of your unfinished sexual encounter ebbed away and you were able to fall asleep. Much too soon, she woke you up by sucking hard on the head of your cock, begging you for round two. 

  
“Fuck, sweetheart, I don’t know if I can.”

  
She stroked you several times, causing you to gasp out in pleasure, “Oh, I think you can. Or are you giving up that easily?”

  
“Never,” you replied before pinning her down and sinking slowly into her. She wrapped her legs around your back, locking her ankles and digging her heels into your ass. You thrusted in and out of her slowly for an undetermined amount of time, before she urged you to go harder. Not being one to deny her, you backed up to the edge so you could stand, throwing one of her legs over your shoulder to give you more leverage. You started pumping into her harder and faster as each minute ticked by. 

You could feel your balls tightening, “Jesus Christ, I’m gonna . . . Sweetheart, please.”

  
She reached down to play with her clit, “No, don’t come yet.”

  
You grunted and did your best to fight back the urge to bury yourself inside of her. With a few more furious flicks of her hand, she came around you, constricting your cock inside of her like a vice. You dropped her leg and somehow managed to pull yourself out of her. You took a few steps back, gripping the base of your cock to stop yourself from coming. She lay on the bed, blissed out from her second orgasm from the night. 

  
You uttered under your breath, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Don’t. Fuck.”

  
That caught her attention enough for her to sit up on her elbows. She licked her lips coyly, “Something wrong?”

  
“You’re killing me, smalls,” you replied more shakily than expected. 

  
She titled her head to the side and eyed you up and down. Finally, she wagged a finger, beckoning you to her, “All right, Dean. You can come . . . If . . . You come here and fuck my tits.”

  
“_Holy shit_,” you thought, practically spilling your seed into you hand at the words coming out her mouth.

  
She saw your hesitation and teased, “Now, if you don’t want to . . .”

  
You rapidly scurried onto the bed, straddling her chest, “Nope, nope, nope.”

  
She giggled and pressed her breasts together with one hand, using her other to caress up and down your thigh. You slid in between her voluptuous tits and grabbed onto the headboard for leverage. She wet her lips, “Fuck, yes Dean. I want you to come all over my chest. Show me what you’ve been building up for me.”

  
“Jesus, sweetheart,” you moaned as your orgasm easily built back up. The silky flesh of her chest may not have been as warm and moist as her pussy, but you were so wound up that it was still doing the job. Your body was drenched in sweat from the physical exertion of not only fucking her, but from holding back for so long. She continued to whisper dirty praises, urging you on. 

  
With a few final thrusts, you closed your eyes, hands grasping so hard onto the headboard you swore you were going to crush your fists straight through the wood as you came in a wordless cry. You heard her shout in surprise as the first shot came flying out of your head, streaking across her cheek. You continued to pump yourself in and out of her tits, emptying yourself onto her. 

  


When you were finally spent, you stumbled onto the bed beside her as little aftershocks wracked through your body. When you finally opened your eyes, white stars speckled your vision. Your heart pounded in your chest, breathing ragged as you fought to take in deep gulps of air. You stretched out your fingers to loosen your muscles. Your softening cock lay against your abdomen, reddened and spent. You turned your head and saw her giving you a satisfied smile as she used one index finger to scoop up your cum before making a show of licking it off of her finger. The sight of her cleaning herself off was almost enough to make you come again. 

  
She smacked her lips, “How was that?” 

  
You tried to pat her head, but exhaustion kept you from doing so. You answered with a breathy reply, “I’m not even lying when I say that was the hardest I have ever come, sweetheart.”

  
She bit her lip, “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

  
“No, no way. That was . . . awesome.”

  
She snuggled into your side, kissing your chest despite how sweaty and sticky it must’ve been, “Good. I’m glad. Now, lucky for you, we still have a few hours of sleep before we have to get up.”

  
She reached down to tug the covers up and over both of you and you had just enough energy to reach one arm around her, pulling her tightly into your embrace. You kissed the top of her head, “Love you, sweetheart.”

  
“Love you too, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can’t wait to hear your feedback and thoughts! Things are steaming up between Dean and (Y/N) and we get a little bit of the wayward sisters! Get excited, because there’s another new chapter, so you get to keep reading. 😊


	45. Slice & Dice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean continue on with your investigation in Sioux Falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not as long as the last one, but there’s still a lot going on. See you at the end!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  


  
The next morning, you had already showered and were nibbling at the breakfast you had magically whipped up by the time Dean’s alarm went off. He stumbled over, his naked form a mouthwatering picture of perfection. He ran a hair though his tousled hair before giving you a peck on top of the head. He poured himself a cup of coffee and headed towards the bathroom for his own shower. You were just finishing getting dressed in your federal agent outfit when you heard the water shut off. 

  
Your back was turned towards the bathroom door, but the mirror in front of you gave you a glorious view as he exited out into the main room. His hair was wet and slicked back. His torso glistened with stray beads of water, racing down the dips and valleys of his firm body towards the white cotton towel that hung low on his waist. His bow legs kept the covering from completely closing at the bottom. You licked your lips and, despite the fact that this man had been inside of you just a few hours ago, you felt your core clench at the sight of his masculine “V” lines on either side of his hips. 

  
He smirked, making his way over to you, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

  
You went to pull your phone out of your pocket, “Okay then.”

  
“Hey, hey, hey! No, no, no!” he shouted, coming up behind you and pinning your hands to your thighs. 

  
He nuzzled your neck and you titled your head to the side to allow him better access. His teeth grazed your earlobe, “So, it’s my turn today, huh?”

  
You sighed, closing your eyes, “Mmhmm. But what do I get if I win? I already had my fun with you.”

  
He moved his lips down your neck to kiss you shoulder, “If you can hold out, then the next thing we try will be from your list. If you lose, then it’s my turn.”

  
You hummed in appreciation, “So, I can’t really lose then, can I?”

  
“Darling, neither one of us can lose at this point.” He brought his lips back to your ear and whispered, “By the way, I want you to wear your skirt. No underwear of course.”

  
You snapped your eyes open and met his gaze in the mirror in front of you, “What?”

  
He lowered his voice and replied huskily, “Did I stutter? Skirt. No panties. Understood?”

  
Your mouth went dry, but you managed to utter back, “Yes, sir.”

  
He patted your ass, “Good girl. Go change.”

  
He turned around and marched off to go put on his own suit, leaving you shivering in anticipation, your current underwear completely soaked. 

  
“_I wasn’t too bad on him yesterday, was I? I mean, how bad could it be today? Right?_”

  
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. You were totally wrong. You had underestimated Dean and his desire for payback. By the time you arrived at the police station, which was only fifteen minutes away, he had brought you to the brink of orgasm three times. He started his assault in the elevator, fingering you from behind despite there being another couple just in front of you, and continuing his teasing the entire ride over. 

  
He grabbed a wipe from the glove department to clean himself off before the two of you exited the Impala and walked into the station to meet up with Jody. The brothers had finally given you a few other identities to use, so she introduced you to some of the other officers as Agents Nicks and Mercury before setting Dean down in a room with the other three case files and leading you down the hallway to interview Daniel, the man who had murdered Jody’s neighbor. 

  
“You okay?” Jody asked with a worried tone as the two of you walked side by side.

  
“Yeah, why?”

  
“You seem a little flushed. You’re not getting sick are you?”

  
“_Damn you, Dean._”

  
You brushed a few stray hairs out of your face, “Uh, yeah, I mean, no. No, I’m fine I swear. Just a little warm this morning.”

  
“Okay, if you say so,” she replied as you arrived at the door to the interrogation room. “Good luck in there girl.”

  
“Thanks, Jody.”

  
She pointed towards a door just a few feet down, “I’ll be on the other side of the glass just in case anything goes wrong.”

  
You took a deep breath, turned the handle and stepped confidently into the room. Daniel appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties. His salt and pepper hair was greasy and disheveled. Even though he was looking at the ground, you could see the bags under his hauntingly absent, dark brown eyes were reddened as if he had been crying for days. He was restrained in a straitjacket across the table from you, his feet shackled together and anchored to the floor. He rocked slowly back and forth in his chair mumbling what sounded like, “I’m sorry,” over and over. 

  
You sat down in the chair across from him, “Daniel? Daniel McCraig?”

  
“I’m sorry,” he repeated a little louder.

  
You clasped your hands together, sitting them on the table, “My name is Taylor Nicks. I’d like to ask you a few questions about the incident from the other day.”

  
“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he whimpered. 

  
“I know, Daniel, I know.”

  
He slowly raised his head, finally making eye contact, “You think you know, but you have no idea. No idea how it feels to . . .” His shook his head, rattling his chains as his voice trailed off. 

  
“Daniel, trust me when I say that whatever you tell me, I promise to believe.”

  
He scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

  
“Tell me, what happened that day? That day you attacked Kristen.”

  
He stomped his feet on the ground, “I killed her! That’s all there is to it, ok! And I don’t even know why! But I did it, I killed her!”

  
“Are you sure it was you, Daniel?”

  
“Who else would it have been? The god damn sheriff saw me do it for fuck’s sake!”

  
“But maybe, maybe it was something else. Maybe something else was controlling you?”

  
He stilled, “Why, why would you say something like that?”

  
“What happened Daniel?”

  
“I . . . I . . .”

  
“Please,” you begged, “Whatever you have to say, may just save someone else’s life.”

  
“I honestly don’t know. I was sitting at home, going through my mail with a new letter opener I just bought out of impulse at this little antique store downtown, “_Nassar’s Jewelry and Antiques_”. I picked it up, opened my electric bill and . . . and . . . ,” tears started to flow down his face, “The next thing I know, my hands are covered in Kristen’s blood and I’ve got a bullet lodged in my shoulder.”

  
“What did you feel when you picked up the letter opener.”

  
“It was like, all of a sudden I was filled with this white, hot anger towards Kristen. I couldn’t control it. All I could think about was killing her and then, everything just went blank.”

  
“Did you and Kristen have an argument?”

  
“No.”

  
“Maybe she stole from you or was driving a wedge between you and your wife, her sister?”

  
“No! Nothing like that. She was . . . She was perfect,” he murmured with a dreamy look in his eye that seemed all too familiar. 

  
You decided to follow your instincts, “Can you describe the nature of your relationship with your sister-in-law?”

  
Daniel looked startled, “What do you mean?”

  
“Would you say you two were friendly? On good terms?”

  
“Yeah, of course. She was family.”

  
You raised an eyebrow, “Just . . . family? Nothing more?”

  
“What are you insinuating?” he asked, offended. 

  
“Look Daniel, I’m not judging, I promise. And I won’t rat you out to your wife if there was . . . something more . . . going on between you and Kristen.” 

  
He shook his head, “No, no, there was . . .”

  
“Daniel,” you said slowly in a warning tone, “Don’t lie to me. Other people’s lives depends on what you say here.”

  
His eyes were bloodshot, “Promise you won’t tell my wife.”

  
“I do.”

  
He inhaled deeply, “Okay, yes. Kristen and I, we were having an affair. Well, it was, it was more than that.” You kept quiet and let him continue telling his story, “I had always liked her, ever since we were kids, but she always ignored me. Finally, her sister and I fell in love and got married. One night, her car died on the way back from the store and I went to pick her up. We got to talking and one thing led to the next and we . . . we slept together. That was five years ago and I’ve loved her everyday since then.”

  
“If you loved her, why did you kill her?”

  
He cried out in agony “I don’t know! I knew what I was doing, but I couldn’t control my body. I’m so sorry.”

  
“Me too, Daniel. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  
“Sixteen.”

  
“What?”

  
“Sixteen. That number kept repeating over and over in my head. I had to . . . stab her . . . sixteen times. No more. No less.”

  
You fought back the urge to reach across the table to console him, after all, he was obviously in no right state of mind, “Thank you Daniel. What information you’ve given me is going to save lives.”

  
“God, I hope so.”

  
Once you were outside of the room, you rubbed your neck and waited for Jody to join you. Shortly thereafter, she exited her room and the two of you made your way back down the hallway towards Dean. You knocked and opened the door to find him engrossed in the case files.

  
“So, any luck?” you asked. 

  
He nodded, “Yeah, actually I think I found a connection between the murder weapons.”

  
“Really?” Jody asked. 

  
“Check it out. If you look at the handles of each of the weapons, the hunting knife, the letter opener and the paring knife, they all have the initials “JLW” faintly sketched into the side.”

  
“So, they all came from the same person?”

  
“Probably. What about you? What’d you guys come up with?”

  
You crossed your arms in front of you, “Turns out the brother-in-law was screwing the sister-in-law.”

  
“Freakin’ suburbs man.”

  
“But that’s not all. He insisted they were in love.”

  
“So why’d he kill her?”

  
You shrugged your shoulders, “He doesn’t know. He said he touched the letter opener and all of a sudden felt an urge to stab her sixteen times.”

  
Jody’s tapped her foot on the ground, “Claire and Donna called while (Y/N) was questioning the suspect. Donna says that there was, in fact, some black ooze at the other two crime scenes.”

  
“What’d Claire say?” you asked, taking the seat beside Dean. 

  
He instinctively placed a hand on your knee, rubbing his thumb back and forth as Jody replied, “Turns out that the high school girl and her brother’s best friend were secretly dating.”

  
“We have to find out where these knives are coming from,” you commented . “Daniel said he bought his from an antique shop here in town. I say we head over to the store and see what the owner knows.”

  
“Sounds like a plan,” Dean said in agreement. 

  
“You two head on over, I’ll catch up with you later. They’re moving Daniel to a psychiatric hospital until his arraignment and I have to process his paperwork,” Jody replied. 

  
You started to stand, but Dean held you in place, “Hey, care if I make copies of these case files before I leave?”

  
Jody reached for the door handle, “Sure, knock yourself out. Just make sure to lock up when you’re done.”

  
As soon as she was out of the door, Dean gathered up the files, dropping them to the floor. He kicked his chair behind him and picked you up, lifting you onto the table. He started to unbutton his pants, “Fuck you look so damn sexy in that outfit.”

  
You caught on to his plan and started to pull your skirt up, spreading your legs as far apart as you possibly could, “Maybe I should wear it more often then?”

  
He pulled out his half-hard cock and stroked himself several times before lining himself up at your entrance, “Gotta make this fast, sweetheart. Don’t want anyone catching us in the act.”

  
You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from moaning as he easily bottomed out. He kissed your cheek and whispered, “Don’t come.”

  
“_Fuck, I knew he was gonna say that._”

  
After Dean had his way with you, the two of you quickly cleaned up and made copies of the case files. You smoothed your skirt and fixed your ponytail, hoping to hid any evidence of your illegal tryst. On the way over to the antique shop, you couldn’t help but cross and uncross your legs, searching for any kind of friction to ease the unrelenting ache in your core. 

  
He chuckled, “Ready to give up, sweetheart?”

  
“You’re not gonna make me lose that easy, Winchester.”

  
“Ouch! Calling me Winchester already? You must be upset.”

  
“Not upset, just determined.”

  
“Not so easy when the shoe is on the other foot huh?”

  
You pressed your thighs closer together, “Just drive, _Dean_.”

  
He snickered and smiled smugly before reaching out to hold your hand in his lap for the duration of the ride. 

  
The golden metallic sign outside of the antique shop was weathered with age. The two story building stood on a corner lot alone surrounded by an unmarked parking lot made of dirt. The bell above the door chimed, signaling your arrival to the owner. She came fluttering out from the back, but she might as well have just hopped out of a time machine from the 1960s. Her billowing orange skirt stopped just above her leather sandals. Her white top was covered in flowers and hung loosely around her plump body. Her arms jingled and jangled from her dozens of bracelets and her silver hair was peppered with a braid here or there, but otherwise flowed freely. 

  
Dean sniffed the air, scrunching up his nose. You smelled the air and tired to discreetly cover your nose in disgust as the sickly scent of too many combined incense flavors invaded your senses. You coughed, the smoke briefly burning your lungs. 

  
“Are you all right dear?” the owner asked making her way towards you. 

  
Dean gently slapped your back several times, trying to help. You coughed a few more times and finally caught your breath, “Yeah, just give me a minute and I’ll be fine.”

Dean made the introductions, the owner announcing her name was “Moonbeam”. Dean rolled his eyes and cut to the chase immediately, holding out a photo of the letter opener and asking her exactly what she knew about it. 

  
She had a pair of cat eye glasses hanging by a thin, plastic string around her neck. She placed them on the tip of her nose and lowered her face to examine the photograph, “Oh yes, this was part of the Woodling estate sale. In fact, this was the final piece that I sold, so if you’re looking for anything else that was in that lot, it’s not here.”

  
“Exactly who’s estate was it?” Dean demanded to know. 

  
“Jessie Lynn Woodling. He was an odd old man. He passed away some time ago, but his family just now decided to get rid of his possessions, for whatever reason,” she replied. 

  
Dean took the picture back, tucking it into a pocket of his suit’s jacket, “We’re gonna need a list of everything that was a part of that estate and who you sold it to.” 

  
The elderly hippie shifted nervously, “Oh, agents, I’m sorry, but that’s going to take some time.”

  
“We’ll wait,” you snapped, “It’s of extreme importance we know exactly what the objects were and who you sold them to.”

  
Her cheery attitude dissipated, “Well, no reason to get snippy with me. Give me a few minutes, I’ll be back.”

  
She fluttered through the beaded curtains to the back, leaving you and Dean out in the showroom. Dean scratched his head, “Well, she’s definitely been sniffing the crazy glue for _way_ too long.”

  
“Yeah, no kidding. So “JLW” must be this Jessie Woodling, right?”

  
He shrugged his shoulders, “Makes sense. But, I don’t know. Seems a little too cut and dry.”

  
You pulled out your phone to try and see if you could find out where the body of Jessie Woodling was laid to rest, “Well, I say we salt and burn the bones, track down the other objects and go from there. If the murders stop, then we know we’ve taken care of it. Okay, look here. Says he was buried at the Woodlawn Cemetery just a few miles from here.”

  
He kissed your forehead, “Nice job, sweetheart. Okay, I say we grab a quick bite to eat, change and head over there after dark.”

  
“All right, here we go,” the owner announced, bursting in from the back with a piece of paper in her hand, “This is everything that I know.”

  
“Thank you for your cooperation,” you said as Dean snatched the paper a little more forcefully than necessary from her. She glared at him and before she could say anything else, you placed a hand on the small of his back, pushing him towards the door, “We’ll be in touch if we need any further information.”

  
She waved a hand as you exited her store, “Have a good night.”

  
The paper the owner had given you only had a few more knives listed on them as being sold. The paring and hunting knife were sold to the victims in Stillwater whereas the rest, thankfully, were purchased by local citizens. You called the other girls and between the group of you, you were able to seize the other weapons within a few hours, telling their owners that the knives were part of on ongoing murder investigation. 

  
Once that was done, you and Dean returned to the hotel to change before heading off to the cemetery. Luckily for you, he agreed that jeans would be more suitable for desecrating a corpse and didn’t even try to stop you when you slipped on a pair of purple boy shorts. As soon as the sun set, the two of you snuck into the cemetery to salt and burn Jessie’s bones. Instead of taking several hours to dig up the body, you were able to dig up the coffin with a snap of your fingers. You dumped salt onto the body while Dean doused it in gasoline before tossing in a book of matches. When the corpse was sufficiently taken care of, you replaced the dirt and left. 

  
The rest of the night was pretty mundane. Dean seemed to be done teasing you for the day, so the two of you picked up a late night dinner to eat in bed, taking shots from the mini bar’s inventory and watching old reruns of “Scooby Doo” before falling asleep. However, the next morning, he was a man on a mission. Like yesterday, you had managed to wake up before him, so you decided to hop in the shower before the two of you left for home. You were just finishing rinsing the shampoo out of your hair when the shower door opened. 

  
You reached for the towel that was hanging over the top of the shower to wipe your eyes, “Can I help you, sir?”

  
Without a word, he pulled your naked body flush against his, slipping his tongue past your lips. His thick cock was already hard, pressing against your abdomen as he walked you back, shoving you against the cold tile. You gasped in shock and he took the opportunity to grab a fistful of your hair, deepening the kiss. 

  
“Dean,” you moaned out in between kisses. 

  
“Turn around,” he ordered calmly. 

  
You followed his commands, taking the opportunity to grind your ass into his crotch. He reached around, cupping your breasts, “Shit, (Y/N).”

  
He relinquished your right breast just long enough to line himself up at your entrance. You were already dripping wet, hungry for him and his touch. He ran the tip of his cock back and forth across your clit, teasing you as his lips trailed soft kisses around the antipossesion tattoo on your back. 

  
“Now remember, sweetheart, don’t come.”

  
“Dean, please, I . . .”

  
“Nu, uh uh. Not yet. Think you can be a good little girl and not come while I fuck your tight, little pussy.”

  
“I don’t know Dean,” you confessed, trying to move your hips so you could sink down onto him. 

  
He stepped back out of reach, “Gotta promise me first. You let me fuck you good and then maybe I’ll let you come.”

  
“Please Dean.”

  
He tugged your earlobe in between his teeth and repeated your words from the other night, “It’s so hot when you beg me.”

  
You moaned, arching your back as his left hand began to roll your nipple between his thumb and index finger. Finally, he stepped forward and slipped the head of his perfect cock past your folds and into your burning core. He reached around and took your other breast in his hand before slamming up and into you. His thrust almost knocked you off your feet, but you managed to steady yourself, using the shower wall for stability. At this angle, he was immediately dragging himself across your g spot every time he pumped into you. 

  
The water started to run cold, but his body warmth kept you from shivering as he pressed you further into the wall until your face was slammed up against it. The sound of his little whimpers of pleasure and wet skin smacking against skin filled the bathroom. It was taking everything in you not to come as he continued his loving assault on your breasts. He reached down and started to rub tight circles on that sensitive bundle of nerves. 

  
“Holy fuck!” you cried out in a voice you barely recognized, “Dean! I, I!”

  
“Nope, don’t do it, don’t come,” he grunted. 

  
But it was all too much and before you could restrain yourself, you came, falling to pieces in his arms as your world shattered around you, leaving you blissed out. If it wasn’t for him holding you up, you’re pretty sure you would’ve collapsed to the floor of the shower. He followed soon after, crying out your name and squeezing you close to him, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

  
When you finally caught your breath once more, you whined, “You don’t play fair.”

  
He raised up and kissed the corner of your mouth, “I play to win.”

  
You patted the side of his leg, “I think we both won here.”

  
“True, but now I get to pick the next game.”

  
“Lord, give me strength,” you chuckled before reaching over to warm up the water coming out of the shower head. 

  
The two of you were finishing up breakfast and packing up to check out of the hotel when your phone rang. You saw that it was Jody calling, so you decided to put it on speaker phone, “Hey Jody, what’s up.”

  
“(Y/N)! You and Dean haven’t left town yet have you?”

  
Dean answered, “No, we’re still here. What’s up?”

  
“Something’s wrong. I just got a call about another murder/suicide of a husband and wife here in town. Newlyweds too.”

  
“Is it related to our case?”

  
“I don’t know, Dean. I was just getting ready to head over to the scene. Can you join me?”

  
“Sure, just text (Y/N) the address.”

  
“See you soon,” the sheriff responded before hanging up. 

  
You hung your head low, “Shit, what could we have missed?”

  
Dean’s eyes flicked back and forth, deep in thought, “I don’t know, but something just seemed off about that patchouli tree hugger. Listen, what if I go back and see if we missed anything. You go meet up with Jody and see if there’s anything suspicious at the crime scene.”

  
“Are you sure we should split up like that?”

  
“The sooner we finish up this case, the sooner I can get you home. I have plans for you.”

  
You smiled, “Dean, you’re thinking with the wrong head here.”

  
He winked, drawing up one side of his mouth to click his tongue against his cheek, “Or am I? Come on, I’ll drop you off with Jody and then we can meet back up at her house later.” 

  
“Fine, but promise to take care of yourself. I kinda like having you around. You give me something to do in between commercials.”

  
“Ha, ha, ha,” he replied before hugging you tightly. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
After dropping your girl off with Jody, you headed over to the antique shop for a second round of questioning. However, the door was locked when you arrived, despite the sign saying they should be open. 

  
“_Son of a bitch._”

  
You pulled out your gun and made your way around back to the fire exit. You turned the handle and were surprised to find that this door was unlocked. You peeked inside and saw that it was pitch black. You pulled a mini flashlight from inside your jacket pocket to illuminate the way. You stepped through the door, shutting it as quietly and quickly as possible behind you. You swept the back room, but found no sign of life. Just as you were about to move onto the next area, something heavy and blunt hit you in the back of the head, knocking you out. 

  
You weren’t sure how long you had been passed out, but when you finally awoke, you were bound by rope to a wooden chair, the store owner seated across from you. 

  
Your head was pounding, but at least she turned on the lights so you weren’t straining to see her, “Let me guess. That name you gave us was . . .”

  
“Fake,” she cackled, “My secret backup plan in case someone came snooping around.”

  
You struggled against your ropes, trying to loosen the knots or find anything on the back of your seat that you could cut it with, but found nothing. You wet your lips, “So what, am I gonna get your evil villain monologue now?”

  
“Evil? I’m not the evil one. My husband was. Well, he wasn’t even my husband.” She shook her head and balled her hands in fists, “Together for sixteen years and the bastard never even proposed.”

  
Your voice dripped with sarcasm, “What a travesty. Who wouldn’t want to marry you?”

  
She stood and walked over to a nearby desk, putting on a pair of purple latex gloves before picking up a pocket knife. She twirled it in her hands as she stepped towards you, “You think you’re funny don’t you?”

  
“I think I’m charming,” you quipped. 

  
She pointed the knife at you, “You remind me of John. Such a smartass. Loved his knife collection more than me. He spent countless hours searching the internet for the perfect addition, cataloguing them, cleaning them. One day, I gave him an ultimatum. If he spent one more penny on his stupid hobby before buying an engagement ring, I’d leave him.”

  
“Wait, wait, wait. Don’t spoil the ending. Let me guess. He bought another knife, didn’t he?”

  
She held the weapon up in front of your face, “This one, in fact. That night, I was so enraged, that I took it and stabbed him to death. One cut for every year we were together.”

  
“It’s like a Nicholas Sparks novel, only bloodier.”

  
She turned and looked out the door towards the back of the shop, “I buried him out back. Told folks he ran out on me and started selling off his knives one by one. When I started hearing about the deaths, I was remorseful. For about a minute. Sounded like John was looking for revenge and the only people he could take it out on was those who touched his knives. I thought about burying his knives with him, but screw it. I spent so many years loving that worthless piece of shit, he can be a miserable, murdering ghost. Besides, those people were probably better off dying than having the one that loved them betray them in the end.”

  
“Well, misery loves company.”

  
She smiled evilly, “That it does. I saw how you close you and that other agent were this afternoon. Not very professional, if I do say so myself, but who cares. You’ll both be dead soon.”

  
She slowly made her way towards you and you urgently fought against your ties in vain. She came around behind your chair and slid the pocketknife in your hand. An electric shock rocked through your body, shaking every thought from your mind except for one, “_Kill (Y/N)._” 

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
As suspected, this fourth case seemed to be connected to all the others. Unfortunately, Donna had already returned to Stillwater and Claire had picked up on a possible werewolf attack two states over, leaving you, Jody and Dean to finish up the case. This time, the murder was committed with a fucking samurai sword that had definitely not been on the list that Moonbeam had written up for you. Luckily, you were able to use your powers to dispose of the weapon before one of the other deputies could take it down the station and file it away in the evidence room. But now, it was two hours later and you had yet to hear from Dean. You tried calling him three times, but had to leave a voicemail after each unsuccessful attempt to reach him. 

  
“_How much longer could his questioning take. Maybe the owner remembered more knives she had sold and he was tracking them down? But why didn’t he call?_”

  
Just as you were about to demand that Jody drive you downtown to the shop, your phone rang. 

  
“Dean? Where are you?”

  
His voice was low and monotonous, “Looking for you. Where are you?”

  
“I’m at Jody’s. Remember, we were going to meet up here? What happened? Are you okay?”

  
Without another word, he hung up the phone. A cold chill ran down your spine, despite the fact that there was a full fire raging just a few feet away from your position on the couch. 

  
“Is Dean okay?” Jody asked. 

  
“I don’t know. He sounded . . . off. I think we need to be prepared. Grab the salt. Are your fireplace pokers make of iron?”

  
“Um, yeah.”

  
“Good. Arm up just in case.”

  
Shortly thereafter, Dean came barging in the door. You tentatively approached him standing in between him and Jody, “Dean, what’s going on. Are you okay?”

  
His smile never quite reached his eyes, “Oh yeah, I’m great.”

  
That’s when you noticed the black ooze dripping out of his ear and the pocket knife he was discreetly holding in his hands. He lunged towards you, slashing through the air. You held up your left arm, blocking him, but he managed to slice two large gashes deep into your flesh. 

  
You jumped back, fighting through the burning that was radiating up towards your shoulder, “Dean, stop!”

  
“Come here sweetheart,” he replied in an unearthly voice, “I’ll make this quick. Only fourteen more cuts to go.”

  
You held up your right hand, “Dean, I know you’re in there. Stop! I don’t want to hurt you.”

  
“Dean’s not home right now, leave a message.”

  
You continued to back up, but fired off a wave of power towards him, hoping to knock the knife from his grip. He stumbled slightly, but never relented on his attack. You called out over your shoulder, “Jody, run!”

  
She took off behind you, hoping to come around behind Dean for a surprise attack while his focus was on you. Dean continued to advance towards you and, like the klutz you are, you tripped over a rug, falling onto your back. Dean tried to make a move, but you reached up and kicked him in the chest. He flailed his arms, cutting another gash into your right leg before stumbling back. 

  
He soon regained his balance, “Only thirteen more to go.”

  
You quickly scurried to your feet just as Jody made her way behind him. He must’ve heard her coming, because he quickly turned, punching her in the face and knocking her to the ground. You snatched a lamp from a nearby table and whispered, “Sorry Dean,” before smacking it over the back of his head to regain his attention. 

  
Your plan worked, and soon he was back on track, attacking you. He jabbed his knife towards you, but you dodged, grabbing his arm and pinning his back to the wall. You banged his arm repeatedly against the door jamb between the living room and kitchen, trying to knock the knife free from his hand. He reached up, grabbing your hair and slammed your head into the wall. Your vision went white and the room began to spin. He chuckled darkly just as you felt another sting across your upper right bicep as he carved another wound deep into your flesh. 

  
Blood was pouring down your arms, staining poor Jody’s carpet. You took a few strategic steps towards the fireplace to try and grab an iron poker of your own. You whimpered, “Dean, please. Fight this. I know you can.”

  
Dean seized in place, his body vibrating as he struggled to hold back the possessing ghost. He held off just long enough for you to grab the poker and slap it onto his neck. With a guttural scream, the ghost was ejected from his body and yanked back to wherever it came from. Dean collapsed to the ground just as Jody stirred, “(Y/N)? (Y/N)? Are you okay?”

  
“I’m fine Jody,” you replied, kicking the knife away from Dean’s reach before kneeling down beside him. You brushed his hair back with your right hand, the one not currently covered in blood, and frantically pleaded to him, “Dean? Dean? Please wake up. Dean?”

  
After a few minutes, his eyelids fluttered and his gorgeous green eyes came into focus as they made contact with yours. You were overwhelmed and were not prepared for the tears that sprang to your eyes, “Hey old man, are you okay?”

  
Dean groaned, pressing a hand to his head, “Yeah, what . . . Shit! What happened?” His eyes had trailed down your body, obviously noticing the blood dripping from your wounds.

  
“I’ll be fine. What happened with you? Where did you get that pocketknife?”

  
He slowly sat up, “That freaky flower child, she’s the one behind this. She killed her long time boyfriend and now, I guess he’s looking for revenge in the afterlife, possessing his knives as they leave the store. That’s where he’s buried.”

  
“That bitch!”

  
His eyes roamed your body, examining your wounds. His voice was laced with regret, “Did I do that?”

  
You snatched his chin, “No, you did not do that. That possessing fuckwad did.”

  
“I’m gonna go get you something to clean up with,” Jody said before heading off to the bathroom.

  
You tapped Dean’s forehead healing his cuts from where you smashed the lamp into him before focusing your energy on your own wounds. However, no matter how much you tried, nothing happened. 

  
Dean saw your frustration, “What’s wrong?”

  
“I . . . I can’t heal myself. Something’s off.”

  
“Stay here, Jody and I will . . .”

  
You held up a hand, cutting him off, “No way. This is personal. That bitch is going down and we’re gonna do it . . . together.”

  
The silent night air outside of the isolated antique store was interrupted by the shattering of glass as you broke every single window with the snap of a finger. Inside, you heard the owner shriek in utter horror as you, Dean and Jody strolled through the broken door, glass crunching under your boots. 

  
The owner came running down the stairs. She cried out, “No! You’re suppose to be dead!”

  
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Dean replied angrily. 

  
You pointed a finger and slammed her against the wall, knocking the wind out of her. You screamed in her face, “What other knives have you sold!”

  
“None, I swear! I kept that pocketknife in case of emergency.”

  
You twisted your finger, causing every muscle in her body to contract in pain, “Liar! Where is the rest of John’s knife collection!”

  
She screamed out in agony, “Up! Upstairs! Under my bed! Now stop! PLEASE!”

  
“Fine, but first, we have a gift for you.”

  
Jody headed upstairs to retrieve the rest of the potential items that could be possessed as Dean stepped forward, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a dish towel and unwrapped it, revealing the pocketknife. You forced her to hold out her hand so Dean could slap the knife down into it. 

  
“Here,” he said, “I’d like to return this for a refund please.”

  
You finally released her and her body convulsed, black ooze dripping out of her eyes and nose. She stilled and grinned manically. You recognized the voice that came from her, as it was the same one Dean spoke in just an hour before when he had been possessed. It mumbled, “Thank you,” before the hippie turned the knife around, stabbing herself in the heart. 

  
You managed to use your powers to find John’s bones in the backyard and dig up his unmarked grave. Jody tossed the rest of his prized collection in with him and you quickly salted and burned his bones, hoping to put his soul and the case to rest. 

  
“So, what now? How am I suppose to explain this?” Jody chuckled as the three of you returned to the front parking lot.

  
“Well, I can always set everything on fire, make sure that if anything else is in there that could be possessed is destroyed,” you offered.

  
“You’re a little bit of a pyromaniac, huh?” Jody snickered. 

  
You shrugged your shoulders, “I just like to be thorough. We’re gonna have our hands full soon and plus, I don’t want anyone else to be attacked by the person they love.” Dean looked down sheepishly, kicking a rock across the dirt. You patted him on the back and he gave you a tight smile. 

  
“_Shit, me and my big mouth._”

  
Jody looked back towards the decimated storefront, “Okay fine. But, make it start out small small and then I’ll pretend that I found it when it was too late and call it in. You two get out of here.”

  
“Oh, and Jody, I’m sorry about the stains on your carpet. And your lamp.”

  
“Are you seriously apologizing for bleeding?” she asked with a smile. 

  
You chuckled softly, “Yeah, yeah I guess I am.”

  
“Eh, don’t worry about it. I got a handy dandy new credit card that I’m sure will help with that. Now, go on. Get out of here.”

  
“We still have to stitch up those wounds. I don’t them to get infected,” Dean said by your side.

  
“Yes, sir,” you replied before snapping your fingers and starting a small trash fire in the downstairs bathroom. Jet black smoke slowly started to pour out of the store, billowing up into the night sky. You and Dean quickly said your goodbyes to Jody and headed back to the hotel for, what would hopefully be, your last night in Sioux Falls for a long time. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“_Something like this always happens. I should’ve known better than to expect to be happy for a long period of time. Idiot. Ow!_”

  
The back of your head stung where she slapped you, “What was that for?”

  
“Because you’re being an idjit!”

  
“What are you talking about? I’m injecting the lidocaine you conjured up to numb your wounds before stitching you up, just like you told me to. How does that make me an idjit?”

  
The two of you were sitting at the table in the hotel room, side by side with a vast array of medical supplies laid out before you. The maid had refilled the mini bar during the day, allowing you to have a few drinks to try and wipe the bad memories of the day away. You were sipping on whatever no name whiskey they stocked in the refrigerator while she had opted for a rum and Diet Coke, heavy on the rum. Rum . . . it was rum with a splash of soda. 

  
“Dean, I know you. You’re sitting there all quiet, grinding your teeth and beating yourself up for this. Stop. It. Now.”

  
Your shoulders stiffened with guilt, “Well, I did do it, didn’t I?”

  
“Winchester, don’t make me slap you again. It was a ghost.”

  
“But I . . .”

  
She held a finger up to you lips, “Shhh! It may have been your body, but not your choice. It’s not like you came home drunk and attacked me of your own free will. You. Were. Possessed! Yes, I’m not thrilled to have to go through this process again but at least I was able to summon up some numbing medication and I know it’s not your fault. Dean, I am not mad at you.”

  
“Maybe you should be,” you mumbled.

  
“If you keep on like this, I will be.”

  
“Good!”

  
“Good!” she yelled back, trying to stifle a laugh. Her grin was infectious and soon, you were fighting back your own smile. 

  
A few moments passed before she pulled out her phone and placed a call, putting it on speaker. You furrowed your eyebrows, “Who are you calling this late at night?”

  
“Cas,” she replied matter-of-factly. 

  
“Cas? It’s midnight.”

  
“So? He’s an angel. He doesn’t sleep. Plus, we need answers about why I couldn’t stop you and why these cuts aren’t healing.” 

  
You tilted your head and nodded in agreement just as Cas answered the phone, “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?”

  
“Uh, everything’s all right, for the most part,” she replied. “How’s Kelly doing?”

  
“Good. She’s taken your advice to heart and has been busy making scrapbooks and videos for Jack. Is there a reason you’re calling so late?”

  
“Actually yeah. I’m here with Dean and we were working a case with Jody and some of the girls. But the weirdest thing happened.”

  
“What?”

  
You joined in the conversation, “Cas, I was possessed by a ghost and . . .”

  
“Are you okay Dean?”

  
“Yeah, yeah Cas I’m fine. But listen, (Y/N) tried to stop me with her powers and she couldn’t. I ended up attacking her. She has some cuts on her arms and they’re not healing. Any idea what’s going on?”

  
The line was silent for several moments before Cas answered, “No, I can’t be for certain what this is.”

  
You slapped your hand on your thigh in frustration, “Great.”

  
“Any idea Cas? Even a guess?” she asked.

  
“Perhaps it’s a failsafe in your design,” he replied. 

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“Well, theoretically, Dean is the only one that can kill you with the right weapon.”

  
“Yeah, I vividly remember that little tidbit of information.”

  
“Me too,” you added. 

  
“So what if, what if your powers don’t work on Dean?” Cas offered. “Perhaps you can’t hurt him with your powers. If you could, then you could take out the only weapon known against you.”

  
“But, but Cas I’ve healed him before. What about that?”

  
“Well, that’s a good thing for him. It appears your powers can be beneficial to him, but not harmful.”

  
“Like leveling the playing field,” you commented. 

  
“I’m . . . I’m not sure I understand that reference.”

  
She giggled, “It’s okay Cas. That does make sense and explains why I can’t heal my wounds. All right, well we’re gonna get ready for bed. We’ll see you and Kelly in a couple of days.”

  
“I’m looking forward to it. Bye (Y/N). Bye Dean.”

  
She hung up the phone and patted your hand, “I guess I really shouldn’t piss you off then.”

  
“That’s not funny.”

  
She smiled, “It’s a little funny.”

  
You shook your head and prepped the needle to start stitching up her first wound. She took a swig of her drink, “You know, when you think about it in a sick and twisted kind of way, it’s flattering that you attacked me.”

  
You took relief in the fact that she didn’t even flinch as you started to stitch together her deepest cut, “What the hell are you talking about doll?”

  
“Each person that was possessed by the ghost went after the person they secretly loved the most. You came after me.”

  
“I told you, I love you.”

  
“I know, I know, but still. Like I said, flattering in a dark way.”

  
You smirked to yourself, “Well I guess we can be sick and twisted together.”

  
“Deal,” she said reaching out to shake your hand. 

  
Once she was all sewn up, she covered her wounds in waterproof bandages and the two of you took a long, hot bath together to wash away the day. Despite her being the one that was attacked, she insisted you sit between her legs so she could massage your back. Her small hands were surprisingly strong as they kneaded the knots out of your tense muscles. Once you were clean, you both slipped into a hotel bath robe and cuddled up to get a few hours of sleep before heading back home. 

  
“You know,” she offered, “We could sleep in and I could snap us back tomorrow? Save as a few hours of driving? I love spending time with you on the open road but sleep . . .”

  
“Sleep sounds awesome,” you said, finishing her sentence. “We’ll take “_Venatrix Air_” back to the bunker tomorrow. I spoke with Sam and mom earlier and they said they should be back the day after tomorrow.”

  
“Maybe we should fly to Washington too? It’ll save us at least a day on the road,” she replied, sprawling out across your chest.

  
You held her hand as the two of you started to drift off to sleep, “Sounds like plan. Night, princess.”

  
She leaned up and kissed your cheek softly, “Night, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excited to hear your feedback and any thoughts on where the story is going! I know a lot of people are probably excited to see Jack, but I definitely didn’t want to skip over Sam’s birthday and just loved the idea of an original case with Dean and (Y/N). Plus, we found out more about her powers and their limitations. I usually don’t like to give spoilers away, but I promise Jack is arriving in the story within the next 1-2 chapters! Hang onto your hats, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride!  
Kudos and comments give me life and seriously make my day! Everyone stay safe and stay home if you can. If you’re an essential worker, you have my undying gratitude for all your hard work in this unprecedented time in our society! 🤗 😘


	46. A La Carte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the Winchesters finally make it to Washington in preparation of Jack’s birth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I’m back! Thanks for hanging in there with me while me and my muse continue to battle one another. I was unsure of what all to include in this chapter, but I have a much clearer vision of the next one, so I am going to make a promise to myself to get it out within the next couple of days (at least less than a week!) Thank you so much for all the continued comments and support!! Now, on with the show . . .

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
The next morning, both you and Dean were pleased to see that your wounds were healing fairly quickly. Definitely not as fast as the snap of your fingers, but in another day or two you would be able to remove the stitches. After a breakfast of waffles, bacon and coffee, you checked out of the hotel and snapped your way back to the bunker. The two of you were making your way down the staircase into the war room when you had a thought. 

  
“Hey . . . ” you said with curiosity. 

  
“Yeah?” Dean replied. 

  
“You never told me why “Moonbeam” killed her boyfriend. What was up with that?”

  
You and Dean dropped your bags onto the floor by the table before taking a seat. You leaned back, feeling relief wash over you from the comfort of arriving home in one piece, while Dean propped his feet up, “She was a crazy wackadoo. She was all pissed off because he bought another knife instead of an engagement ring. After sixteen years, she wanted him to propose to her.”

  
You shifted your eyes back and forth across the room, not focusing on anything in particular, “Excuse me? Seriously?”

  
He nodded his head, “Yep . . . Wait a minute. Are you talking about the fact that he didn’t propose or about the reason for her own Manson style murder?”

  
You threw your hands gently up in the air, “Her reasoning, duh! Just because you’re long time partner doesn’t propose, doesn’t mean you go all Michael Myers on their ass.”

  
He wiped his brow playfully and winked, “Shew, well then that’s something I’ll never have to worry about.”

  
You gasped lightly, “Dean, I would never!”

  
He put his feet on the floor and turned towards you, “So, you’ve never thought about it?”

  
“It?”

  
You could tell he was getting nervous at bringing up the topic, “Well, yeah, uh, um, you know. Marriage? Settling down?”

  
You taunted him, “Aww Dean, you trying to find out if I’ll say yes if you pop the big question?”

  


  
He scrunched up his face, shaking his head furiously, “What? Pffft, no. I, I um just wondered what you thought about it. Because you know . . . ”

  
You reached over and patted him on the leg, “Dean, I know that’s not your cup of tea. Don’t worry. I mean, sure, what little girl hasn’t dreamed about every intricate detail of her wedding day. But, you get older and you realize, that’s a wedding, not a marriage. In the end, it’s a piece of paper. Some people want their relationship defined in writing, some don’t care and others adamantly refuse to do that. Now, I’m not about to lose you over a piece of paper. As long as we’re together, that’s all I care about.”

  
In the middle of you talking, he had reached down to take your hand in his, running his thumb back and forth across your palm. He looked up from underneath his long, gorgeous eyelashes, the green from his eyes just barely visible, “You’re not just saying that because of me, are you?”

  
You chuckled, “No, I’m not. I would never want to push you into something you didn’t want to do. If a relationship comes down to a major ultimatum like that, then it’s probably not a healthy one. I’d rather be with you for years to come, living in quote “sin” than be married to you for six months before you felt like you were drowning and needed to cut the tie.”

  
He smiled wistfully, his mouth pulling up into a side smirk and the crinkles around his eyes coming into view. You sighed, drinking in his beauty that you were convinced you’d never get enough of. 

  
You sighed, “So, now that we’ve had that discussion, have you heard from Sam and your mom? In all the chaos, I’ve forgotten to check in with them.”

  
He smiled softly one last time before answering, “Yeah, uh Sam texted this morning. Told me to thank you once again. Sounds like he and mom have had a great time. They should be back around dinner tomorrow.”

  
“That’s great to hear. I’m happy that he enjoyed my gift.”

  
He scoffed, “I still call bullshit on that whole gift. Can’t believe you gave him a whole entire vacation with our mother.”

  
You shrugged your shoulders and teased, “Well, I could have just given him like a blowjob like I gave you.”

  
Dean sat up straight in his chair, eyes wide as he spoke slowly, “Uh . . . Excuse me? What?”

  
You gathered you hair, flipping it over your shoulder so you could twirl it between you fingers innocently, “Yeah, I mean, you seemed to like it and it was free. . .”

  
You watched him stare at you, trying to determine if you were being serious or not while you looked back at him with mocked confusion, “What?”

  
He sounded frightened, “Are . . . Are you serious right now?”

  
“I don’t know, am I being serious?” you asked with a wink. 

  
He visibly relaxed back in his seat, letting out a heavy sigh, “That’s not funny.”

  
You leaned forward and placed your hands on his knees, “It’s kinda funny.”

  
He shook his head, closing his eyes as he groaned in disgust, “Ugh! No! No, it’s really not. How am I gonna get that mental image out of my head now.”

  
You laughed and moved your hands a little further up until you were stroking back and forth between his knee and upper thigh, “Well, you did say they won’t be back until tomorrow. Maybe I could give you a different mental image?” 

  
He opened his eyes and looked at you suspiciously, “What you got cooking in that big head of yours?”

  
You pushed off of him to stand and slowly backed up to the war room table, placing your hands behind you on the edge of the iconic piece of furniture, “Well, technically I know it’s your turn for something on your little ‘honey do me’ list . . .”

  
He chuckled, “‘Honey do me’ list?”

  
“Uh-huh, that’s what I’m calling it,” you explained as you started to rub your hands across the table top, “So we can either do that or you can screw me silly on this table. Ever since that first day I arrived, ever since we had our first fight right here, I’ve fantasized about you taking me on this table. Well,” you blushed, “I’ve actually thought about it for a long time before that.”

  
He dropped his smile, shifting into his dominant demeanor as he stood from his chair and closed the gap between you until his knees bumping up against yours. On the inside, one part of was jumping up and down with excitement while the other was frozen, waiting to see what he would do next. You wet your lips, feeling your heart skip a beat as he came closer. His green eyes were bright and reminded you of the evergreen trees you grew up around in Kentucky. Every time he looked at you like that, you mentally pinched yourself, unable to believe that Dean Winchester was actually giving you his undivided, sexual attention. 

  
He leaned down to brush his lips against your cheek, pressing his chest into yours and shoving your ass into the edge of the table. You felt his rough scruff scrape across your soft flesh as he trailed kisses up to your ear. His hand tucked the hair behind your ear so he could whisper, “And what if that’s exactly what’s on my list for you?”

You shivered in excitement, reaching out to grab two handfuls of his flannel and replied more breathily than you expected, “I would say that’s a lucky coincidence then.”

  
He scratched his cheek against yours, the burn from his facial hair sparking that fire deep within you. He kept going until he was nose to nose with you, his full lips millimeters from yours. You couldn’t help but to stare at the perfect “V” his top lip formed because, how dare this man have lips those pink, those soft and so tasty. If the man that owned them didn’t insist on kissing you with them, you would cry out to the heavens in demand of an explanation, because it just wasn’t fair. 

  
Those wet dream inducing lips ghosted across yours and you whimpered. He smirked, grasping the back of your neck with one hand as the other snaked up your outer thigh, working its way around to your back to pull you closer to him, “Well, this isn’t on my list, but I’m happy to add it.”

  
With that, he inched forward, tenderly pressing his lips onto yours in a slow, sensual kiss. You could taste the faint remnants of this morning’s breakfast and inhaled the scent of the hotel’s vanilla honey body wash that lingered on his skin. You smiled to yourself at the thought of him raiding another maid’s cart just before you left this morning and vowed to subtly suggest he pack some of those stolen products when you left for Washington. 

  
His hands trailed down your back, past your hips and ass until he held a firm grasp on the back of your thighs. A squeaky yelp escaped your lips when he lifted you up with ease and plopped you down onto the war room table. He took advantage of your shock to slip his tongue past your lips to deepen the kiss. He stepped between your knees and kneaded your ass with one hand while his other fisted a handful of hair. Meanwhile, you ran your hands up his chest, past his shoulders and through his soft, spiky hair. His light moans of pleasure sent tingling shocks to your core. 

  
He unexpectedly broke away and you couldn’t help but notice his hooded eyes and heavy breathing as he command two words, “Shirt. Off.”

  
You unwillingly untangled your hands from his hair to reach over and behind your head, pulling your “_I Solemnly Swear I am Up to No Good_” t-shirt over and off your torso, leaving you in a dark red, lace bra. You knew it was cliché, but the grunt from Dean meant he definitely approved of your new lingerie choices. 

  
Licking his lip, he reached behind your back to unclasp your bra with one hand and teased, “Sweetheart, you most certainly are up to no good.”

  
The thin piece of fabric was tossed aside and in a flash, Dean had his warm, wet mouth firmly wrapped around your right breast. His teeth gently nipping at the taut bud, tongue flicking back and forth while his other hand caressed your left breast. Your skin hummed with excitement as you arched your back and let your legs fall open to allow him to lean closer into you. 

  
“I’m only up to no good when you’re around,” you replied shakily. 

  
He released your nipple, sloppily kissing a wet trail across your chest to your other breast, “Good . . . It . . . Better . . . Stay . . . That . . . Way.”

“_Hmmmmmm, Dean Winchester getting possessive. A girl could get used to this._”

  
You pressed your left hand on the table behind you to support your body weight, letting your head drop back to and focus on the magic Dean was working with his mouth. Your right hand had somehow managed to find its way back to the crown of his head, scraping along his scalp as you fisted as much hair into one hand as you possibly could. He moaned when you slightly tugged, increasing the suction on your nipple. 

  
You moaned, “Shit, Dean . . .”

  
He smiled cheekily up at your blissed out face, “Lay back, sweetheart.”

  


You did as he commanded, pushing the calipers, rubber rings and other map accessories to the side so you had a flat plane to lie on. The cool surface of the table sent goosebumps traveling down your body, but after a few tentative tries, you were able to rest your back flat across Africa and the eastern region of Asia on the illuminated map. Dean undid the button and zipper of your jeans before nodding at you, silently ordering your to lift your hips so he could pull the unnecessary clothing off your legs. 

  
You obliged and your inner self gave herself a little fist pump when he groaned once more, grabbing his hardening member over the front of his jeans when he realized your underwear had been a matching set. Tantalizingly slowly, he gently kissed his way up your right leg, starting at your ankle, moving to your calf, your knee and eventually your upper thigh. You were caught off guard when, instead of teasing you and repeating the process with your other leg, his strong, rough hands grabbed a chunk of flesh on each of your inner thighs, prying them apart. 

  
“Are you . . . is that a thong you’re wearing?” he asked huskily. 

  
You answered sheepishly, “I . . . I thought you might like that.”

  
He smirked, “Well, don’t get me wrong, it looks incredibly hot on you, but I kinda miss the surprise graphic of the day.”

  
“Really?”

  
“Yeah, gives me something different to look forward to.”

  
“So, Dean Winchester has a bit of a panty kink, does he?” you goaded. 

  
“If they’re yours, then yeah,” he replied slowly, letting his mouth thoroughly taste each word, before placing his lips over the wet spot that had formed on your underwear and sucked. 

  
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he kicked your body into a higher gear, driving your wanton desire for him higher. Suddenly there was a quiet *_rip_* and you felt your panties disappear. Your snapped your eyes open and saw he had torn them from your body. 

  
He stood, wiping your arousal away from his mouth with his shirt sleeve. He dangled your ruined lingerie in front of you, “Won’t be needing these any longer.”

  
You sat up on your elbows, unconsciously pressing your thighs tighter as he stood there his inner lip sucked in behind his upper teeth, eyeing you like Thanksgiving dinner. You ran your tongue along your lower lip and tried to replied seductively, “I guess not.”

  
He palmed his clearly visible erection and rubbed slowly back and forth, “Now, I know you’re still healing, but if you think you can handle it . . . I have an idea. It’s not the one from my list thought. I need to . . . buy something for that.”

  
You mouth went dry, “What? What do you have to buy?”

  
He waved a finger back and forth and clicked his tongue, “Nope. That’s a surprise. So, how are you feeling? Think you can handle it a little rough today, sweetheart?”

  
Inside, you were panting like a dog, tongue out, arms up with your hands dropped down in front of you begging, “_Yes! Yes please!_” Luckily, you were able to keep a calmer composure on the outside. 

  
You batted your eyelashes and answered casually, “Oh, I’m pretty sure I can handle anything you throw my way. What do you have in mind?”

  
Without a word, he reached for your hand, pulling you up so you were sitting straight up, “Give me your hands.”

  
You held out your arms, palms up towards him. He shook his head and placed your hands behind your back before leaning forward to use your ripped panties to tie your hands together at the wrist, securing the knots just tight enough so that the fabric bit at your skin. When he was satisfied that you were sufficiently restrained, he stood back and winked devilishly at you. 

  
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, “You’re wearing too many damn clothes.”

  
He cupped your chin, running his thumb along your lower lip, “All in due time, sweetheart. Now, off the table.”

  
You whined, “But, what . . . I . . .”

  
He pressed a finger to your lips, “I said off the table. Now.”

  
You edged your way forward and hopped off the table, Dean’s hands on your hips helping to lower you to the ground. You were taken off guard when he dug his fingers into your soft flesh and roughly flipped you around, pressing a firm hand on your back to lower you back down until your breasts were crushed South America. He laid across your back, his cock pressing through his jeans and grinding into your ass, his body warmth a stark contrast to the chilly table. 

  
He kissed your right cheek before yanking your head back with a handful of your hair, “Now, this might be a little rough. Ever since our little talk the other night coming home from the carnival, I’ve wanted to push you a little further.”

  
Your eyes fluttered, grinding your ass into him as you whimpered at his erotic word play. He groaned and pressed into you, pinning you in place and stilling your movements. His lips trailed up your jawline and down to your neck where he sucked forcefully, bring blood to the surface of your skin and marking you as his. Once he was satisfied, he licked the area, soothing the now delicate flesh and whispered, “We’re gonna need a safe word sweetheart.”

  
“Fuck,” you uttered. 

  
He lightly chuckled, “Nope, can’t be that. Come on, what’s gonna be our safe word.”

  
You knew immediately what that secret phrase would be, but apparently you were taking too long. You felt a sharp sting as he brought his hand down across your ass cheek. He tugged on your hair and spoke, his voice thick and gruff like sandpaper being dragged over gravel, “I said, what’s our safe word gonna be?”

  
“Impala,” you breathed out. 

  
“Hell, I’m beginning to think you love Baby more than me.”

  
You bit your lip, “Only if you’re in her with me.”

  
He kissed your shoulder and moaned, “Impala it is is then. Now, be honest and tell me if it becomes too much.”

  
“I promise, Dean.”

  
You were momentarily saddened by the loss of his crushing weight when you felt him push up and away from you. But the smoking fire in your core was fanned even higher, when you heard his boots clatter a few feet away and the metallic jingle of his belt loosening. After a few more tortuous minutes of him undressing, you felt another slap to your ass as he brought his hand down harder, smacking your hot, wet opening at the same time. 

  
You involuntarily jumped, “Fuck!”

  
His fingers were quickly rubbing to soothe the stinging skin, “I can see you’re already dripping, fucking wet for me already aren’t you, my sweet little bitch.”

  
“Yes, yes Dean.”

  
He smacked you again, lightly this time, “You like being my little bitch, (Y/N)?”

  
“Mmhmm.”

  
You felt his knees touch your upper thighs as he got into position behind you, rubbing the tip of his cock along your entrance, “My tight, wet little cock sleeve.”

  
You were getting worked up and while you liked his occasional teasing, you just needed him to get on with the show. You peeked over your shoulder, “Dean, please.”

  
He pushed an inch of himself into you before backing out all the way, “Please what, bitch?”

  
“Please, I just want you.”

  
He entered you once more for a brief moment, before pulling out entirely, “You just want me?”

  
You pulled on your makeshift restraints, wish you could reach out and touch him, “I . . . I need you Dean.”

  
“Remember the safe word,” he warned. 

  
With that, he slammed roughly into you, a harsh *_SCREECH_* echoing out, bouncing off the cement walls of the Men of Letters bunker as Dean plowed into you from behind. He dug his finger tips into your hips and pumped his thick, hard cock rapidly in and out of you. It definitely wasn’t the “jackhammering” that your girlfriends had complained about, but you were sure it was almost rivaling that pace. Without your hands to brace onto the table, you had to just lie there and take Dean’s sexual pounding. Surprising, none of your stitches popped and there was nothing but utter pleasure coursing through your veins as that coil in your pussy tightened. You moaned as his balls slapped against your clit every time he snapped his hips into yours. You titled your head to the side, trying to keep your head elevated and your cheek from rubbing against the table top. 

  
He smacked your ass, “Yeah bitch, you like this, don’t you?”

  
“Jesus, yes Dean. Fuuuuu . . . . uuuuu . . . ckkkk.”

  
“Everyone,” *_slap_*, “would be surprised,” *_slap_*, “to see my sweet little nerd,” *_slap_* “tied up with her soaked panties,” *_slap_* “being spanked wouldn’t they?” *_slap_*

  
You started to push your hips back, meeting him thrust for thrust as you got closer and closer to your release, “Dean, I . . . I’m . . .”

  
But Dean continued to pound away and before you knew it, your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of you as you wailed uncontrollably like a banshee. You otherwise would’ve been too embarrassed by the pornographic noises being ripped from your soul, but you had no energy to focus on that as Dean continued to fuck you through your orgasm. 

  
Dean let go of your hips and reached up to grab your forearms, giving himself more leverage as he pumped vigorously in and out of your quivering core. 

  
You screamed out, “Dean . . . . I . . . . Shiiiiii . . . . iiiiiii . . . . iiiiiiit.” 

  
His pace never faltered, “You still good?”

  
“Yesssssssssss,” you hissed out as the pain from being fucked through your orgasm quickly started to build back into pleasure. 

  
Dean leaned forward, grunting as he released your right arm to play with your clit. He spoke in a strained tone, “Give me one more, sweetheart. One more.”

  
Dean’s pace faltered and before you knew it, you felt him coming inside of you. The feeling of his pulsating cock, the tight little circles he was rubbing feverishly around your clit and the sensual little moans that erupted from deep within his chest made you dizzy and sent you spiraling over the edge once more, screaming his name. 

  
Dean collapsed on top of you, your bodies slightly sticking together from the sweat. His breath was hot and heavy on your shoulder as he pressed loving kisses on your tattoo, working his way up to your shoulder and then to your neck. After a few seconds, he lifted himself off of you and you heard him stumble a bit. 

  
You were still struggling to catch your own breath, but you couldn’t help but to laugh, “You okay back there?”

  
He slowly grasped you by your shoulders, helping you to stand and take a few steps back from the table. He wrapped his arms around your middle, lazily stroking his fingertips across your abdomen, “Uh, yeah I’m good. But uh, you kinda made a mess on the floor, princess.”

  
You finally looked down and saw a puddle of liquid. If you could have, you would have slapped him, “That, that wasn’t all me. Don’t go blaming me, Winchester!”

  
He grabbed your chin with his free hand, turning your face towards him, “Yes it was, sweetheart. You squirted all over me.”

  
You did a double take, “Are . . . Are you serious? I thought that second time felt a little different. But . . . Wow.”

  
“Wow indeed,” he replied slowly before planting a firm kiss on your swollen lips. 

  
When he broke apart, you turned to face him and he shook his head as he eyed your chest, “What the . . . Why didn’t you say anything?”

  
You looked down and saw that your chest was reddened from the friction of being rubbed back and forth across the table. You shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t feel a thing. Plus, my stitches are all intact. I’m fine,” you said eyeing the puddle on the floor, “Really, really fine.”

  
He ran his hands lazily up your shoulders, sending shivers radiating out from his touch. He applied firm pressure as he squeezed his hands, massaging your muscles. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, “Well, are you gonna untie me now?”

  
He massaged you a few more times before his hands disappeared. Suddenly, he had his arms wrapped around your upper thighs and was lifting you up and over his shoulders. He playfully smacked your ass, “Nope. I’m not done with your yet.”

  
You giggled like a schoolgirl, “Where are we going?”

  
He turned and started to march down the hallway, “It’s a surprise.”

  
You playfully kicked and fought against him, “You better not be taking me to Sam’s room. He’ll kill us.”

  
Dean stopped midstep, “You know, I hadn’t thought about it. But now that you’ve put that in my head . . .”

  
He started to march off in the opposite direction, “Dean! No! We can’t do that!! He’s gonna kill me!”

  
Dean squeezed your ass just as he made his way to Sam’s bedroom door, “Well, if you really don’t want to, you know what word to say . . .”

  
You bit your lip and considered the consequences of your actions. Were there really any . . . ?

  
You could practically see his eyes crinkling up and hear him smile, “I’m not hearing anything . . .”

  
“Nope, you sure aren’t”. 

  
You heard the doorknob *_click_* and the door swung open, “Well, let’s work on that, shall we?”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“You know, you really didn’t have to do that,” you playfully chided as she tucked the freshly laundered fitted sheet over your brother’s bed. 

  
She tucked a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear and sighed heavily, “Yes Dean. I do,” she chuckled, “I really do.”

  
You were leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed, “Man, I’d have loved to have seen Sammy’s face if he came home to see his bed all . . . worn out.”

  
With a flick of her wrists, she flourished his top sheet across the mattress. She shook her head, “I still can’t believe you talked me into having sex in his room.”

  
She bent over the bed, flattening out any wrinkles in Sam’s sheets and you couldn’t help but to admire the way her ass looked in her jeans today. Her dark red tank top rode up just enough to show you a peek of her lower back. You snuck up behind her, catching her off guard as she stood up, smacking her back into your chest. You wrapped your arms around her and felt her relax into your embrace, “Hey, we could’ve stopped anytime. But I didn’t hear any complaints from you at the time.”

  
She wrapped her arms around yours, “You had me in a weakened state. It wasn’t a fair fight.”

  
You brushed her ponytail out of the way, kissing the back of her neck slowly, making your way up her neck and towards her ear, “I don’t play fair. I play to win.”

  
She hummed in appreciation, her grip tightening on your arms. “Dean . . .” she said in a half warning, half seductive tone. 

  
You moved your lips across her skin, leaving a trail of kisses from her neck to her shoulder, “Yes . . . .?” 

  
She grabbed a handful of your hair, turning her head to face you, “Your mother and brother are gonna be home any minute. Don’t start anything we can’t finish.”

  
You brushed your nose against hers, “We’ll be quick.”

  
She bit her lip, shaking her head, “You are such a bad influence on me.”

  
“You started it when you came into my life,” you whispered before kissing her slowly. Her hands tangled in your hair, her fingernails gently scraping against your scalp as you held her closer into your arms. After a few slow, lingering kisses, she turned in your arms, gently pressing on your chest to put some distance between the two of you. 

  
“Down boy,” she teased, “One bad decision in a twenty four hour period at a time.” She turned and continued to make your brother’s bed, “Besides, I’m really curious as to what you have planned for me since I lost our little bet. You said you had to go shopping . . .”

  
You stood back and leaned against Sam’s desk, “I did.”

  
She asked, “Wanna tell me about it?” in a causal tone, but the way she was sneaking peaks at you, you could tell she was extremely curios about your plans. 

  
“Nope.”

  
She pouted, “Dean!”

  
You shook your head, “Sorry sweetheart.”

  
She pushed out her bottom lip and held her hands up, fingers interlaced as if she was about to pray, “Pretty, pretty please.”

  
You chucked to yourself, “Nope, not a word.”

  
She finished placing the comforter on the bed and Sam’s pillows up by the headboard before walking over to you and kissing you softly on the cheek, “Pretty, pretty please. With whip cream and a cherry on top?”

  
You rolled your eyes as she ran her hands arm and down your arms, “Have you ever been to a sex shop?”

  
She did a double take, “Wha – what? No, I can’t say that I have.”

  
You smirked, “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Let’s just say I need to make a pit stop.”

  
She took in a shaky breath and circled her arms around your neck to card her fingers through your hair, “You better take me with you.”

  
It was your turn to be surprised, “Really?”

  
She smiled shyly, but you could see the excitement in her eyes, “Mhm. Who says I don’t want to get things as well.”

  
You pressed your forehead to hers, “And what exactly is on your Christmas list, little girl?”

  
“Things . . . and stuff.”

  
“Such as?”

  
“No spoilers, Dean.”

  
You ran your hands down her back, cupping her ass and giving her a gentle squeeze. She smiled and wiggled her hips, “How’d you guess?”

  
“What?” you asked in confusion. 

  
“I wasn’t exactly sure how to ask or if you’d be up for it, but Dean, I . . . I definitely want you to um . . . Yeah. I mean I’d really love for you to,” she laughed nervously, “claim my ass?”

  
You swallowed hard, “Holy crap.”

  
She started to back pedal, blabbering at a rapid pace, “I mean, we don’t have to. It’s okay. I know some people aren’t into it and I don’t even know if it’s something you’ve done before. What am I saying? Of course you have, you’re Dean Winchester for Chuck sake. It was just a stupid idea. Forget it.”

  
You crushed your lips against hers, sliding your tongue along her lips several times before answering, “(Y/N), I would love to claim your ass as my own.”

  
Her eyes lit up in excitement, “Really?”

  
“Hell yeah, sweetheart.”

  
She asked hesitantly, “Have you, ever tried that with anyone else?”

  
“Honestly?”

  
“Yes Dean, I wanna know.”

  
You sighed heavily, “A couple of times here and there, but it’s more of an off the menu move and, in my case, I usually go straight for the main course.” 

  
“I see,” she replied with a bigger smile, “So, this is more of a specialty item?”

  
You smacked her ass, “Abso-freaking-lutely. And sweetheart, I look forward to eating everything at your restaurant.”

  
She licked her lips, “Well, I do like a man with a healthy appetite.”

  
You gave her another kiss before asking, “But wait, why do you need to go shopping for that?”

  
She gave you another kiss before wriggling out of your arms and practically skipping towards the door, “If we’re gonna go there, I’m definitely gonna need butt plugs or something to help be prepare for you. I can’t just go from nothing to your ten inch hero in one night.”

  
You cocked your head to the side, “How the hell do you know about butt plugs?”

  
She smirked, “Dean, just because I was a virgin, doesn’t mean I’m ignorant. Now, come on, let’s go set the table. Your mom and Sam are bringing pizza for dinner and I’m starving!”

  


With that, she left the room, leaving you dumbfounded and a million dirty thoughts running around your head as to what else could be on her specific “honey do me” list. Before following her down the hallway, you had a fleeting thought that would have scared you more than facing Lucifer just six months ago. Now, while it didn’t seem as frightening, you still swatted the idea away, vowing to deal with it later. For the briefest of moments, you thought to yourself, “_I’m gonna marry that girl some day._”

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You and Dean were just finishing up setting plates and cutlery around the war room table when the bunker door creaked open, signaling the rest of the Winchester clan had finally returned home from their vacation. Sam was the first one down to descend from the crow’s nest. The smell of the pizza he and Mary had procured wafted down with them, invading your nostrils and causing your stomach to rumble. 

  
Dean was immediately on top of the delicious grub, grabbing the boxes from Sam’s hands, “Welcome home Sammy.”

  
He nodded his head, “Hey yeah. Glad to see you.”

  
Once Dean was out of the way, you made your way over to the taller brother, “Hey Gumby, nice to see you again.”

  
He rolled his eyes, but willing opened his arms and welcomed you into a friendly embrace against his chest, “Hiya nerd. You really outdid yourself with that gift. It was too much.”

  
You squeezed him tighter, “Never. It was my pleasure.”

  
You finally released him and saw that Dean was welcoming his mother with a hug. Once he was finished, she smiled warmly and held out her arms towards you for a hug as well. However, just as you were about to reach her, she snatched your wrist to examine the stitches on your arm. Her jaw dropped, “What happened here? Are you okay?”

  
You chuckled lightly, “Oh, I got out of line and Dean attacked me.”

  
“WHAT?!” Sam and Mary shrieked at the same time, glaring at Dean. 

  
Dean was already sitting at the table, working on devouring his first slice of double pepperoni pizza. His eyes widened in surprised as he responded with a mouth full, “It’s not what you think!”

  
You quickly backed up, putting yourself between Dean and the other two Winchesters. You held up your hands, “Bad joke! Bad joke! I was just kidding!”

  
They both breathed a sigh of relief, but Sam was the next to speak, “So, what happened then?”

  
You gestured towards the table, “Come on in, relax. Have a seat and we’ll fill you in on what we’ve been up to and you can tell us all about your trip.”

  
Over the next hour, the four of you ate, drank and made merry while catching up on what each other had been up to over the last week. 

  
Sam shook his head, “I still can’t believe you two went on a hunt without us. We could’ve helped.”

  
You chided him, “Sam, for the millionth time, we were fine. I didn’t want all of my hard work and planning to go to waste. Plus, we weren’t even sure if it was a case until we got there.”

  
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. Who would’ve thought that Dean could hurt you with a silly little pocketknife,” Mary added. 

  
Dean uttered solemnly under his breath, “Yeah who would’ve thought. . .”

  
You reached under the table, patting his knee, “It was definitely a learning experience. Plus, now he knows that there’s no way I could hurt him with my powers or manipulate his thoughts or memories. So, that’s comforting.”

  
You felt Dean squeeze your hand before he leaned over and planted a chaste kiss on your lips. 

  
“Nah, you just have to bake him a pie and he’s putty in your hands,” Sam joked. 

  
Dean chuckled and you shrugged your shoulders, “Hey, whatever works. Sam, did you at least take some pictures like I asked?”

  
He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I took a few and I’ll get them emailed over to you tonight so you can do what you want with them.”

  
“I told you, I’m going to add them to the scrapbook. I’m glad you had a good time. Did you actually learn anything from the guides or did you end up giving the tour yourself?”

  
Sam looked away from you sheepishly and Mary laughed, “As a matter of fact, he did end up correcting a tour guide or two on some of their facts.”

  
“It just slipped out!” Sam replied in defense. 

  
“And you call me the nerd?” you asked. 

  
Dean took another slice of pizza out of the box in front of you and Sam attempted to change the topic, “Whatever. Dean, aren’t you full? That’s like your seventh piece.”

  
He shook his head in denial, “No it’s not.”

  
“Uh, yeah dude, it is. I counted.”

  
You chuckled and teased, patting Dean on the head, “Aww come on, he’s a growing boy.” 

  
“Don’t be a narc, Sammy. Seven pieces is perfectly normal,” he replied taking another bite. 

  
Mary leaned back in her chair with a dreamy look in her eyes as she watched the playful banter between her sons unfold. 

  
Sam fired back, “Uh, it’s really not, Dean.”

  
“It’s not even a whole pie.”

  
“Come on Sam, let him be. I bet he’s always been like this, hasn’t he Mary?” you asked. 

  
She stood up and started to gather everyone’s plates, “Even as a baby.” She continued to speak as she came around to give him a quick hug from behind, “John and me, we used to call him our little piglet.”

  
Dean threw down his half eaten slice of pizza into the box in front of him and spoke with a mouth full, “All right, I’m done.”

  
Mary patted his shoulder, “With love. We said it with love.”

  
She took Sam’s plate and he thanked her, before rising from his seat to help her carry the dishes into the kitchen, leaving you and Dean alone. You could see him staring off at another pizza box at the end of the table, but hesitated in getting up to grab yet another slice. You smiled and flicked your hand towards him, sliding the box across the table so it landed gently in front of him. 

  
He turned to you in surprise and you winked, “Go ahead, eat up cowboy. Pass me a slice too.”

  
Dean opened the box and passed you a slice of double sausage pizza while he dug into his eighth piece of the night. Mary and Sam soon returned, both shaking their heads as the two of you continued to devour dinner. 

  
Sam wanted to know, “So, what’s the plan? We’re heading up to the cabin soon, right?”

  
You tossed your half eaten pizza crust back into the box, rubbing your stomach as you leaned back into your chair, “Yep. Dean and I were hoping that we could head out tomorrow morning.”

  
Mary took a sip of her beer, “It’s gonna be a long drive. Washington is like, what a full day’s drive?”

  
You nodded, “Technically, yes. But, we were thinking I could just snap us there in Dean’s car that way we wouldn’t have to endure the journey.”

  
Sam held up a hand, “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold up. Dean, you’re really gonna let her use her magic on your car.”

  
Dean polished off his last slice of pizza, “Yeah, so what?”

  
Sam did a double take, “So . . . So what? It’s, uh, it’s your . . . Baby” he stuttered, barely able to get the words out. 

  
“I trust her. Besides,” he winked in your direction, “If she puts a scratch on it, I’ll just kill her.”

  
Mary gasped, “Dean! That is not funny.”

  
You tucked your tongue in your cheek, “You think you’re funny huh?”

  
His lips pulled up in a half smirk, “Just letting you know your actions have consequences, sweetheart.”

  
“You’d do well to remember that little piece of advice yourself, Winchester.”

  
He shrugged, “Eh, I think you’ll forgive me.”

  
“You’re a cocky little thing, you know that? Maybe I need to put you in your place, play a little harder to get from now on.”

  
He leaned over, brushing his lips against your cheek, “Good luck with that.”

  
You playfully shoved your hand in his face to push him away, causing his eyes to crinkle up as he laughed at your shenanigans. You returned your focus to Mary and Sam, “So, if you are up for it, we’ll just use my powers to travel to Washington tomorrow morning. Is that okay with you two?”

  
“It’s fine by me. I don’t see an issue with it,” Mary replied. 

  
Sam answered, “Well, I guess if Dean is okay with taking a chance on the Impala, then I’m okay with it too.”

  
“Good. So, let’s say we all meet in the garage at nine?”

  
“Sounds good,” Mary said with a smile. 

  
Unsurprising, Sam and Mary were extremely tired from the day’s journey, so they turned in early. After dinner, Dean removed your stitches since your cuts were pretty much healed. Afterwords, you and him retired to his man cave for a relaxing evening. He was getting better at rock, paper, scissors know that he realized he always picked scissors, but you managed to beat him and picked the movie of the night. You decided it was finally time for him to watch “_Memoirs of a Geisha_” and he didn’t complain too much about having to watch the romantic drama. 

  
He was sitting on one side of the chocolate brown couch while you sprawled out across the rest of it, your feet in his lap. Dean ran one hand up and down your legs, using his other to gently massage your feet while stealing glances at you. 

  
You sighed heavily, “Dean, you’re suppose to be paying attention to the movie.”

  
He smirked and in a flash, he was on top of you, his body pressing you down into the couch, “Nah, I think I like this view better.”

  
You started to protest, “Dean . . .” but his lips cut you off as he laid a tender kiss upon your mouth. He ran his hands down along your side and you were a goner, the movie long forgotten. The two of you laid there, lazily making out for the next hour until your lips were swollen. Sometimes, it was just nice to lay back, enjoy his roaming hands, his fiery kisses and the crushing weight of his body on top of yours. When the credits started to roll, he carried you back to your shared bedroom where you kept it vanilla for the night as he dished out three mind blowing orgasms over the next hour before you fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

  
The next morning, you arrived at the car to find Sam was already waiting for you, leaning against the front passenger door of Baby. You threw your duffel into the trunk, “Morning Gumby. Have you seen your mom?”

  
“Yeah, she’s just finishing off her cup of coffee then she’ll be here. Where’s Romeo?”

  
“Brushing his teeth, then he’ll be here,” you answered before remembering something you had meant to tell the younger Winchester yesterday, “By the way . . . you might wanna change your toothbrush.”

  
Sam stood up straight, his face turning serious, “Why? What do you know?”

  
“Let’s just say I know Dean and I bet he messed around with your stuff.”

  
“Did he uh, did he do anything to my bed?”

  
You swallowed hard, “Uh, I don’t think so. Why, why do you ask?”

  
He eyed you suspiciously, “Because my sheets smelled like they were washed.”

  
“Oh, yeah, I uh took the chance to wash them for you. You know, just being a good housemate.”

  
His gaze narrowed, “(Y/N), you two, you wouldn’t . . .”

  
“What?” you asked innocently. 

  
He came closer, towering over you, “You two didn’t do anything in my room did you.”

  
“Sam, do you really think I’d let him talk me into that?”

  
“I know my brother and you aren’t that hard to convince.”

  
You patted his shoulder before stepping back, trying to put some distance between the two of you, “Sam, you’re just being paranoid.”

  
Before he could continue his interrogation, the garage door that led to the rest of the bunker creaked open. Mary walked in with Dean right behind her, carrying two bags. 

  
“_Just in time!_”

  
“_You know, technically you lied to Sam_,” you inner voice scolded. 

  
“_No I did not._”

  
“Yes you did,” she replied in a sing-song tone. 

  
“_No, I just avoided telling certain truths. So, hush!_”

  
Dean threw the luggage into the trunk before slamming it shut and making his way over to kiss you on top of your head. You threw an arm around him and pulled him close, “Everybody ready?”

  
“Let’s do this,” Mary said climbing into the backseat. 

  
You started to follow behind her, when you felt someone tap your back. You turned around and saw Sam pointing to the front seat, “Why don’t you ride shotgun?

  
Your jaw dropped as you stared back and forth between him and the front passenger door that was ajar, “Sam, are you, are you serious?”

  
“Yeah sure. We’re literally going to be in the car for like two minutes. Go ahead.”

  
“And they say chivalry is dead. Thanks Sam.”

  
He leaned in a whispered, “Thanks for the heads up about my toothbrush.”

  
He patted you on the back as you climbed into the front seat, joining Dean who was already in his front of the steering wheel. Once everybody was in, you rubbed your hands together in anticipation. 

  
You tried to hide your nervousness with humor by pretending to hold up a microphone that flight attendants use on an airplane, “Welcome ladies and gentlemen to flight 327 on Venatrix Air.”

  
Dean and Mary chuckled lightly and Sam groaned as you continued to make your faux announcements, “Today’s flight is scheduled to leave in approximately one minute and will hopefully be over before you can say ‘Poughkeepsie’.”

  
“Poughkeepsie,” Sam deadpanned. 

  
You exhaled sharply, turning around in your seat to speak directly to Sam, “Anyone who gives the employees a hard time, runs the risk of being splinched.”

  
Sam held up his hands and a small crept across his lips, “Fine, fine. I’ll be quiet.”

  


  
“What’s splinched?” Dean asked, furrowing his eyebrows. 

  
You waved a hand at him, “It’s a Harry Potter thing, you wouldn’t get it.”

  
“Do I even need to say it?,” he asked.

  
“Yeah, yeah I know, I’m a nerd,” you said turning around in your seat.

  
“All right, come on. Beam us up Scotty,” Dean encouraged, reaching over to pat your knee. 

  
You inhaled deeply and held up your hand. Just before snapping your fingers, you concentrated on moving the whole car as a unit and focused on the address of the lake house in North Cove, Washington. “_I can do this. I can do this. I can do this._”

  
You closed your eyes, released your breath and snapped your fingers. A breeze kicked up, blowing your hair around your face and before you knew it, the car landed with a hard *_THUD_* on something solid. You and Mary yelped as Sam grunted and Dean yelled, “Son of a bitch!”

  
You tentatively opened your eyes and sighed in relief at the view in front of you. The roof of the weathered, white, two story home was definitely a welcoming sight. The four stone pillars supporting the wooden porch looked slightly work and the house could use a paint job, but it’s aura gave off a welcoming presence. It was a cloudy, overcast day, but the mountains and lake in the background were still breathtakingly exquisite. 

  
“Is everyone okay?” you asked. 

  
Mary patted herself down, “I, I think so. No harm done.”

  
Without you noticing, Dean had already exited the car and was pacing around its exterior, inspecting for any damage. You leaned out the window and asked sheepishly, “Is, is she um . . . Okay?”

  
He huffed dramatically and stopped at a few spots to stoop down and examine Baby more closely. When he was finished, he strode over to you and leaned in the open window, his face stern. Your heart was slamming into your chest like it was trying to escape so it could run away from Dean’s wrath and honestly, you were doing everything in your power not to poof away. 

  
He shook his head several times, before his face broke out into a grin. He gave you a swift peck on the lips, “She’s fine.”

  
You quickly opened the door, knocking him back several feet. You marched right up to him, pointing a finger in his chest, “That is not funny Dean Winchester! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

  
He laughed before wrapping his arms around you, pinning your arms to your side, “Now, now, calm down there sweetheart. It was just a joke.”

  
“That was not funny!” 

  
He kissed your nose, “It was a little funny. Now if I let you go, you promise not to attack again?”

  
“No.”

  
He shook his head, “I’m gonna have to put a leash on you.”

  
You leaned forward and lowered your voice, “Don’t give me any ideas Winchester.”

  
He quirked an eyebrow and you felt his grip loosen, allowing you to slip out of his arms. Suddenly a voice called out from the house, “Hey, you made it!”

  
You whipped your head around to see a very pregnant Kelly Kline waving from the front door, with Castiel by her side. She had on a tube top, floor length dress covered in yellow flowers and a light blue cardigan. She waved again and before you knee it, you found yourself making your way over to greet her with a hug. 

  
You squeezed her tight, “Kelly, you look beautiful!”

  
She rolled her eyes, “Don’t lie to me (Y/N). I haven’t even seen my feet in like a week.”

  
“Well, I’m sure they look great, but if it makes you feel better, maybe we can have a girl’s night and do pedicures and stuff.”

  
Mary came up beside you just as Kelly rubbed her stomach and replied, “Oh gosh, that would be nice. I’ve been so isolated since all of this began, it’d be great to have a night with just the girls.”

  
“And Mary, you too?”

  
She smiled, “Uh, yeah sure. I’ve never been much of a girly girl, but hey, when in Rome, right?”

  
You turned and saw that Sam and Dean were gathering the bags out of the trunk, “We’ll send the boys out and have a night in.”

  
“Would you like for us to show us to your rooms?” Castiel asked. 

  
You gave him a quick hug as well, “Yes, Cas. That’d be fantastic.”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
Sam spoke, “Dude, I still can’t believe you not only let her teleport us in the car, but you actually let her drive it into town?”

  
“It’s not like she hasn’t driven it before and . . . and . . . Shut up.”

  
He chuckled before taking a sip of his beer, “You’re totally whipped.”

  
You wiggled your eyebrows up and down, “Only in a good way, know what I mean?”

  
Sam groaned, “Dude!”

  
After Castiel had assigned everyone a room, with you and your girl sharing, Kelly had mentioned that she needed to get out of the house for a change of scenery. Your girl offered to take her out and possibly pick up some groceries for the week to give them somewhere and something to do. It had shocked everyone when you immediately tossed her your keys so they could take Baby in town. She had skipped over to you, giving you a kiss on the cheek before whispering a promise to repay the favor later tonight. Now, your mother was unpacking while you, Sam and Cas had taken a seat outside on the back porch to catch up on things. 

  
“So Cas,” you began, “You and Kelly seem to be getting close.”

  
“She’s a lovely woman.”

  
You taunted him, “Uh huh, I bet. Has she cut her off a little slice of angel food cake?”

  
Cas looked confused and Sam slapped your arm, “Dude is that all you think about?”

  
“What? They’ve been up here, all alone in a cabin. He saved her life. Sometimes a chick is thankful for that.”

  
Castiel corrected you, “I didn’t save her. Her son, Jack, used his powers through me and saved both of us from Dagon.”

  
“So does that mean she hasn’t seen your angel blade?” 

  
Cas rolled his eyes, “No Dean. Kelly and I are just friends.”

  
You smirked, “Well, Sammy, maybe you should make a move then. After all, she’s already pregnant.”

  
Sam just scoffed and shook his head before turning to Cas, “So, how have you two been doing up here all alone?”

  
“We’re good,” the angel replied, “Kelly has been busy making videos and scrapbooking just in case . . .” He paused for a moment, letting the words linger in the air before continuing, “And we have been trying to lay low.”

  
“It’s a “hurry up and wait” kind of situation,” Sam stated. 

  
Cas nodded in agreement, “Yes.”

  
“Waiting is the worst part,” you added before the three of you fell into a comfortable silence. 

  
A few hours later, she and Kelly returned to the cabin. She quickly carried a few brown paper bags that looked full of stuff upstairs. When she came skipping back down the stairs, she had a twinkle in her eyes. 

  
“Uh, what was that all about?”

  
She patted your chest, “Never you mind.”

  
“Did you go shopping for toys without me?” you whispered in her ear.

  
She bit her lip, “No, I actually thought we could do that another day.”

  
“So what’s with the secret?”

  
She swayed back and forth, “I have a surprise for tomorrow. Now don’t ruin it, just trust me. For now, will you help me with the groceries? I think Kelly is exhausted.”

  
Kelly came waddling in from outside, “That I am,” she replied with a smile before she saw you. Her expression turned neutral and she greeted you with a curt nod, “I’m just gonna go upstairs for a nap.”

  
“No problem. We’ll get dinner started and see you later,” your girl reassured her. 

  
Once you were outside and out of earshot, you pointed your thumb to the house and asked, “What gives with her?”

  
“Dean, you and Sam did want to kill her and her child at one point. Excuse her for being a little scared around the two of you.”

  
“Yeah, but she’s got you and your X-men powers backing her up now.”

  
She opened the trunk and started to gather the groceries, “I know, but still. It’s a scary situation for her. So, just try to be nice, for me. Please? You can be pretty intimidating if someone doesn’t know there’s a big dork hiding underneath that macho façade you present to the rest of the world.”

  
“Now don’t go giving away all my secrets, princess,” you teased as you loaded up your arms with groceries. “So, what’s with all of this stuff? Can’t you just snap your fingers and whip us up some supplies and food?”

  
She briefly looked down at the ground, worry invading her otherwise carefree expression, “Yeah, I can but . . . I don’t want to use my powers for everything.” She chuckled lightly, “I mean, yeah it’s cool and all that I have this power but sometimes . . . . sometimes it scares me too. How much I can do and I, I just don’t want it to get the better of me. I don’t want to accidentally do something that I can’t take back. I don’t . . . I don’t want to accidentally go . . . I don’t wanna go . . .”

  
When she hesitated to finish her sentence, you asked, “Dark side?”

  
She looked up at you through her long eyelashes, “Exactly. It’s just so fucking daunting and I don’t wanna mess this up.”

  
By this time, you had made it into the kitchen and unloaded the groceries onto the table. You could see her eyes were shiny with unshed tears and her bottom lip was slightly trembling. You rubbed your hands up and down her arms, “Hey, you’re about as dark as fresh fallen snow.”

  
A small grin ghosted across her beautiful pink lips, so you continued, “You are as bright as a damn unicorn carrying around a disco ball covered in extra glitter.”

  
She laughed, but looked back down at the ground. You gripped her chin, forcing her to look up at you once more, “No way you could go dark side. I won’t let that happen.”

  
“Thanks Dean,” she replied meekly. 

  
You winked before giving her a slow tender kiss, “No problem, sweetheart.”

  
The rest of the evening was spent cooking a nice steak dinner with your family. Luckily, the cabin came equipped with a gas grill outside, so you volunteered to cook the meat, and your girl couldn’t help but to sneak outside to flirt with you, bringing you a beer and making jokes about how she “liked a man that could handle his meat”. You had made sure to heed your girl’s advice and let Sam know how Kelly felt about the two of you, so at dinner he insisted upon sitting beside her while you and you (Y/N) sat across from them, while your mother and Cas sat at the ends of the table. Even though Cas didn’t eat, he still joined in on the conversation. (Y/N) even got everybody to play cards that night and by the time everyone went to bed, Kelly seemed visibly relaxed and more comfortable in your presence now that you weren’t actively trying to kill her only offspring. 

  
The next morning, (Y/N) gave everybody a bag and ordered them to go change. A few minutes later, you joined the rest of the gang in the living room, wearing the plain black swimming trunks that she had bought underneath a pair of your favorite jeans. You weren’t quite sure if everyone else was in their “gift” or not as they all seemed to be in normal, everyday clothes. 

  
You crossed your arms, “Okay, what is going on here?”

  
“So, since we have a few more days left, I decided we shouldn’t just sit around in the cabin all day. We are right on the coastline, so I decided we needed a beach day.”

  
Sam huffed before speaking, “Really? A beach day?”

“Yes,” she replied sternly, “Because I know for a fact that you two have never been, so we are righting that wrong today. Now, before anyone else can argue with me, everyone to the car. Now.”

  
Surprisingly, everyone listened to her, including Cas who insisted that he wear his normal ensemble. In no time at all, you found yourself sitting in a plastic folding chair, toes in the sand and a beer in your hand. She wasn’t wrong. You and Sam had never been to the beach, given your unusual upbringing and while you had never admitted it to anybody, you had always hoped for a day like this. As you slipped off your socks and shoes to wiggle your toes in the grainy, wet sand for the first time, you somehow feel even more in love with (Y/N). 

  
It was a chilly day, but she decided to use her magic so that the water around you was warm enough to swim in. Kelly and Sam seemed to be getting close, venturing off into the water together and laughing as they splashed one another. You and your girl tossed around a football for a while your mother and Cas seemed content to sit back and enjoy the sun that magically seemed to be shining down on only your section of the beach.

  
You all spent the rest of the week fishing, enjoying the beautiful hiking trails and she even kicked you, Sam and Castiel out one night so she, your mother and Kelly could have a “girls night.” By the time it was the day before Jack was to be born, the six of you felt like a tight, family unit. Now that you weren’t trying to kill Kelly, you saw she was a pretty calm, intelligent woman who seemed to love Sam’s sense of humor. You were relaxing on the couch, checking the local papers for any sign of a case that may need your quick attention when (Y/N) came bouncing down the stairs in a pair of faded jeans, a white tank top and one of your dark blue flannels. She walked over, took your laptop away and sat down in your lap. 

  
“Well, what do I owe all this attention all of a sudden?” you asked, pulling her closer into your lap. 

  
“Uh, I think I came you plenty of attention last night,” she replied before brushing her lips against yours.

  
“Oh yeah . . .”

“Mmmhmmm, how easily we forget.”

  
“So, what’s up, sweetheart. You ready for tomorrow?”

  
She sighed, “I think so. I just really hope I can save Kelly.”

  
“Hey, you got this,” you responded, rubbing your hand up and down her back.

  
“Anyway, today is not about that. Today, we are going on an adventure.” She stood up, pulling you up with her, “Grab your keys and meet me at the car.”

  
“Do I get to know where we’re going?”

  
She wet her lips with her soft, pink tongue, “Trust me, you’re gonna love it.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“Scared Dean?”

  
“Pfft, what? No, no way. I’m just shocked you’re the one that brought me here,” he replied as he continued to stare up at the black sign in front of the nondescript store front that read “_KINX Adult Shop_”. 

  
You slid your hand into his, “Well come on cowboy, let’s go shopping!”

  
You entered the store, the little bell ringing out above the door to signal your entrance. You nodded at the young blonde at the cash register. She was in a blood red tank top that cut way too low and black, leather pants. She smiled at Dean, pushing out her chest, “Hi there. How can I help you?”

  
Dean answered quickly, “My girlfriend and I will let you know if we need anything.”

  
You saw her eyes roam up and down Dean’s frame, “Okay sugar. Just call out if you need anything. Anything at all.”

  
Normally, you might’ve felt jealous at the attention the blonde bimbo was giving to Dean, but now, you knew there was nothing to be worried about, especially since he just referred to you as his actual girlfriend. Dean took a few steps forward, grabbed a basket and headed down a random aisle. 

  
“So, what are we shopping for, sweetheart?” he asked wiggling his eyebrows. 

  
“Well,” you replied shakily, suddenly a little overwhelmed at all the products laid out before you, “I know I’m gonna need some butt plugs.”

  
“Jumping right in, aren’t we?”

  
“And whatever you’re gonna need for what you have planned for me,” you reminded him. 

  
His eyes narrowed, “Is this all just a ruse to try and get me to spill the beans?”

  
You scoffed, “Would I do that?”

  
He stared at you, waiting for you to answer your own question. You smiled, “Okay, I would. And yes, I’m a little curious.”

  
He grabbed your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “Well too bad. I guess I’m gonna have to sprinkle it in with whatever else we get so I can keep my secrets.”

  
You pushed out your outer lip when he dropped his hand, “Tease.”

  
“Trust me, you’ll enjoy the surprise,” he promised in his honey thick timbre before pulling you in for a long, luscious kiss. 

  
Dean and you spent over thirty minutes shopping for various treats and toys. Among your purchases were two different vibrators, some handcuffs, some softer restraints, a bottle of massage oil and you even convinced him to try a fleshlight sometime. When you were checking out, the other woman continued to flaunt herself off and flirt with your Dean right in front of you. If only she knew who she was dealing with. 

  
She hit total and cocked her head to the side, “See anything else you like?”

  
Dean smiled and handed her the credit card to pay before tugging you under his arm, “Nah, I got everything I want right here.”

  
She huffed and straightened up before sliding the card and tossing it onto the counter. She shoved your two full bags towards you and replied rudely, “Have a nice day, I guess.”

  
You grabbed the bags, “Oh, we will. I promise.”

  
You smiled sweetly at her and she sneered back before you and Dean left the store with your new toys. Outside, he chuckled, “I thought you were gonna turn her into a pillar of salt.”

  
“Nah. She’s not worth it. Besides, I know I have nothing to worry about.”

  
He cupped your cheeks, “That’s right.”

  
Dean leaned down and pushed his lips onto yours in a fiery kiss. You dropped your bags to the ground to run your hands up his arms and around his neck. You and him stood there for several minutes, enjoying the taste of one another before he finally broke away, “Come on, let’s get back to the cabin so we can try some of this stuff out.”

  
“Actually,” you sighed, “I think we should wait until we’re back home.”

  
“What? Why?”

  
You ran a finger down his chest, “Because, I want to take my time with you and plus, we need to focus on what’s coming tomorrow.”

  
He pressed your back up against the building’s exterior, grinding himself into your upper thigh, “I’d rather focus on what’s coming tonight.”

  
He nuzzled at your neck as you fought to make, what you thought, was the right decision, “Dean, I didn’t’ say we couldn’t play tonight. But, we should keep it simple.”

  
He whined into the crook of your neck, “But I’m ready for the side dishes tonight.”

  
You threaded your fingers through his hair, “I know, I know. But I promise. We get back to the bunker, we’ll do a la carte all you want.”

  
He sucked softly at your pulse point, “Fine, fine. But we’re not leaving our room for twenty four hours.”

  
You giggled, “Deal. Now come on, let’s get back.”

  
Forty five minutes later, you were pulling up outside of the cabin, when you had a thought, “Shit!”

  
“What? What’s wrong?” Dean asked in a panic. 

  
“We can’t take this stuff in there! And I don’t wanna leave it in the car.”

  
He sucked in air through his teeth, “Oh right. I didn’t think about that.”

  
“Give me a sec. I’ll pop back to the bunker, put this away and be right back. I’ll meet you inside.”

  
“Want me to come with you?” Dean offered. 

  
“Nah, I’ll be right back.”

  
“Okay, see you inside, (Y/N).”

  
You picked the two bags off the floor and in a flash, you were standing inside Dean’s room in the bunker. 

  
“_Okay, even if these powers are sometimes scary as hell, it’s still pretty cool._”

  
You tied the bags up and tucked them under your and Dean’s shared bed. You were just about to pop back, when a strange feeling washed over you, sending a chill down your spine. You stilled and listened for any clues that might explain the sudden uneasiness. A few seconds passed when you heard a deep voice calling out, their words jumbled. 

  
“_Shit! Who could be in the bunker?!_”

  
The voice called out again, but it sounded familiar this time, although you still couldn’t quite place it. 

  
You quietly opened the door and looked out into the hallway for any signs of the intruder. When you didn’t see anyone, you stepped out. The voice called out again. 

  
“_The library. They’re definitely in the library._”

  
You slowly stalked down the hallway, arms up in front of you in case anyone jumped out. 

  
“Come on Moose, squirrel. Come on out and quit the foreplay!” the mysterious voice shouted. 

  
“_No. No. No. No. No. No._”

  
Hearing his voice automatically turned your stomach into lead and sent daggers into your heart. 

  
The British voice called out again, “Chipmunk! This is serious business! Where are you?”

  
You turned the corner and saw him standing in the archway between the library and the war room. 

  
Tears welled up in your eyes, “Crowley. What are you doing here. Please, please don’t tell me you did something stupid.”

  
The King of Hell looked at the ground ashamed, “I’m sorry (Y/N). I should have listened to you.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowley’s back and seems like he has something to apologize for. What will this mean for everyone? The next chapter is going to be action packed and a lot is going down. Kudos are always appreciated and comments truly make this humble writer’s day! Until next time, stay safe and carry on! 😘 😘


	47. Out of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has been keeping a very important secret from you and Jack throws a wrench in your plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you beautiful people! I am so terribly sorry for delaying in my next chapter update. I felt a lot of pressure on this chapter as it’s kind of the crux of the story. I feel like it’s plot heavy and there were a lot of details that needed be covered. Hopefully the wait will be worth it!

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**  
  


  
The sharp sting of your nails digging into your palms was helping to keep the volcanic rage brewing up inside of you from erupting. You closed your eyes and tried to take in slow, albeit shaky, deep breaths as you attempted to gather your thoughts. Thankfully, the King of Hell had enough sense not to say anything until you spoke. 

  
With your eyes still shut tightly, you asked slowly and calmly, “Crowley, what did you do?”

  
“Something I shouldn’t have, apparently. Where are the two flannel wearing giants? We need to talk.”

  
Your eyes flew open, “Talk? Now you wanna talk? Crowley! Tell me what you did!”

  
His smug attitude quickly returned at your demand. He scoffed and stepped down the stairs into the war room, “Listen up chipmunk, you might have managed to shake your perky bits and hypnotize the moose and squirrel, but I’m not impressed. This is a job for the grown ups. Now, either go make a sandwich or tell me where the boys are at.”

  
“_Okay. Breathe (Y/N). Breathe (Y/N). Don’t kill him. We still need him. We need to know what he’s done. Breathe._”

  
His British accent cut through the air like nails on a chalkboard, “Well come on! Where are they?”

  
His yelling broke the final straw in your resolve to try and keep things peaceful. You stomped forward, quickly closing the distance between the two of you. Crowley actually took a step back in fear as you neared him. You snatched his ear and pulled him across the room like he was a child, screaming as you went, “You want to see Sam and Dean? FINE! Let’s go!”

  
Before Crowley could protest, you were flying through the air and in the blink of an eye the two of you landed in the kitchen of the cabin in Washington. You led Crowley by his ear over to the table, flicked your wrist to pull out a chair and slammed him down in the seat, pinning him down with your powers. 

  
You stared at the King of Hell, watching him take in his new, unexpected surroundings. Your breathing was harsh and ragged, “There! Happy?! Now, tell me what the hell you did!”

  
You voice echoed off the walls and you could never be quite sure, but for a moment you could have sworn that the house actually shook around you. Crowley didn’t respond, but instead chose to just stare at you, mouth agape in utter confusion. In your peripheral vision, you saw something move. You turned your head and realized that Kelly and Sam were sitting at the other end of the table. They had apparently been hanging out, talking when you interrupted them with your new houseguest. Mary was a few feet away in the kitchen and appeared to be working on tonight’s dinner. Even though she couldn’t cook, you had convinced her earlier in the day to make her Winchester surprise casserole so Kelly could try it. 

  
To your right, the door leading to the backyard creaked open and Castiel came strolling in, his face laced with concern. His eyes flicked back and forth between you and Crowley but just as he was about to speak, you felt two strong hands on your shoulder and a gruff, but familiar voice asked in hushed tones, “Uh, (Y/N), what’s going on?”

You pointed a finger at Crowley before turning around to speak directly to Dean, “I’m not sure yet, but I’m pretty sure this pompous twit has just royally screwed us!”

  
You turned and saw that you had unconsciously used your power to push Crowley, still in his chair, up against the wall. His eyes were wide in shock and he was obviously struggling to breathe. Angry tears welled up in your eyes as you marched toward him, “Why Crowley?! Why didn’t you listen to me? Are you really that stupid!?”

  
Suddenly, Dean’s arms were wrapped around your middle and you allowed him to pull you back before you did something you regretted. He pulled you in tight and asked, “What is it? What did he do?”

  
“What’s going on (Y/N)?” Castiel asked in concern from just a few feet away. 

  
Never breaking eye contact with Crowley, you felt a few stray tears fall from your eyes as you spoke, “Go ahead Crowley. Tell them! Tell them what you did!”

  
You could see a myriad of emotions flash across his face before he attempted to answer. He replied hoarsely, “I . . . I . . .”

  
“Uh, (Y/N),” Sam said from behind you, “I don’t think he can breathe.”

  
You rolled your eyes and felt Dean rub his hands up and down your arms to help you relax. Finally, Crowley must’ve been table to take in a deep breath because you heard him gasp before shrieking, “What the bloody hell is going on?!”

  
Dean’s tone was dangerously low and sent shivers up and down your spine, “You don’t get to ask the questions here Crowley. Answer her. What did you do?”

  
You could tell Crowley was struggling to subdue to your will, but seeing he was outnumbered, he answered the question instead of trying to argue, “Lucifer. He’s out and looking for Kelly.”

  
Kelly and Mary gasped. Sam’s chair scraped across the wood floor as he quickly scampered to stand up. Dean frantically pushed by you, driven by anger, and marched toward Crowley. In a flash, he reared back his fist and punched him in his face, knocking him out of his chair and onto the floor. Crowley grunted as Dean leaned down and ferociously grasped his suit jacket in one hand and pulled the demon blade from behind its secured location in the back of his jeans before wielding it against the demon’s throat. 

  
Dean bellowed, “What did you say?!”

  
Crowley’s eyes widened in panic, “Moose! A little help here?!”

  
Sam quickly made his way over towards his brother, “Dean, wait.”

  
You, Mary and Dean all spoke at the same time, “Seriously!?”

  
He huffed, “I mean, just don’t kill him. Maybe we can use him to fight off Lucifer.”

  
“And what if we can’t?” Mary asked. 

  
Sam shrugged, “Well, then we kill him.”

  
Dean appeared to think through his options for a few moments before reluctantly releasing Crowley from his grip and stowing the blade into the back of his jeans. 

  
You flicked your wrist and flipped Crowley up so he was sitting upright in the chair once more. He straightened his shoulders and smoothed out his ruffled jacket, “Like I said, I should have listened to you chipmunk.”

  
Your face reddened as a metaphorical spotlight shined down on you. Dean slowly turned around, “What do you mean he should’ve listened to you?”

  
“(Y/N),” Sam questioned, “Did you know this was going to happen?”

  
You stammered, “I, well I mean, yeah, kind of.”

  
“Are you kidding me?!” Dean yelled, “I thought we were past all of this?”

  
You raised your voice, “We are! This wasn’t supposed to be an issue! I warned Crowley way back when that I knew what he was planning and that he needed to forget about it if he wanted to live.”

  
“Honey, what are you talking about?” Mary asked. 

  
Sam spoke next, “Hold, hold up. I’m so confused. Crowley, why would you even do it? Save Lucifer?”

  
Castiel finally joined in on the conversation, “Yes, we were all in agreement. Work together to put Lucifer back in the cage. Why did you let him out, Crowley?”

  
The King of Hell took in a deep breath and spoke in a shameful tone, “I wanted to win. I perverted mother’s spell.”

  
“Even after I warned you it would lead to your death?” you screeched. 

  
There was an undercurrent of snide in his reply, “Yes, well you are just a measly little mortal. Well, I thought you were. I don’t know what you are now.”

  
Dean crossed his arms and moved to stand beside you. You could tell he was still seething with rage, but his actions proved he was still on your side, “Later Crowley. Go on, what did you do?”

  
“I found Lucifer’s old vessel years ago. Made it strong enough to hold him and used magic from the cage so I could control him.”

  
You shook your head in disgust, “Yeah, but you forget that demons will stab you in the back and a couple of them managed to reverse control, right?”

  
He nodded, “Exactly. _I_ wanted to win. _I_ wanted to take him down. Humiliate him like he did me.”

  
Dean scoffed, “Those extra three inches just weren’t enough, were they Crowley? You had to go swinging it around and prove you were better than the devil himself?”

  
Crowley attempted to defend himself, “Do you know how many people have made a play for my throne over the years? Lucifer, Abaddon, blah, blah, blah, blah blah. Too damn many. I thought if I could put the devil on a leash, my own personal nuke, no one would ever challenge me again.”

  
You rolled your eyes, “Yeah and look how great that worked out.”

  
Crowley replied, “It all ended with me narrowly escaping my death by hiding in a rat.”

  
“You mean other than the one you’re currently residing in?” you retorted. 

  
Dean snickered and Mary commented, “Wait, in an actual rat?”

  
Crowley shrugged his shoulders, “Wasn’t too bad, really. Gave me time to think. You know, I’ve been focused for so long on keeping my job. Never realized I hated it. All those whining demons. The _endless moans_ of damned souls. The paperwork. I mean, who wants that?”

“You,” Sam quipped. 

  
Crowley shook his head, “Unh-unh. Once . . . Maybe. So, if you’ll forgive my transgressions, I’ll make it worth your while.”

  
“Which means?” Dean asked. 

  
You spoke up, “He’s gonna close the gates of hell.”

  
Sam stepped forward in disbelief, “Uh, wait. What? Seriously?”

  
The King of Hell nodded, “If we can take care of Lucifer, you’ll never see another demon again, apart from, of course, yours truly. They stabbed me in the back, I’ll happily stab them in the front, the sides and right up their little back eyed asses.”

  
“And you’ll help me kill Asmodeus,” you added. 

  
“What?”

  
“You heard me. Asmodeus. The final Prince of Hell. He’s next on my hit list once we get this all squared away.”

  
Crowley eyed you with curiosity, “And why is that?”

  
“He has something that I want.”

  
“Which is?”

  
“None of your damn business, Crowley! We help clean up the mess you made, you helps us with whatever we want, got it?”

  
Before he could answer, Dean turned to address you, “Now hold up. I’m not a fan of Crowley’s but you had a hand in this mess as well. Why didn’t you tell us Crowley was gonna trap the devil?”

  
You looked down at the ground shamefully, “Because Dean, if I had told you that I knew what Crowley was gonna do, you would have known I was lying about Jack and it would have been a big mess.”

  
Dean threw his hands up in the air, “Oh yeah, we’re in so much of a better position now.”

  
“Jack? Who the bloody hell is Jack?” Crowley asked in confusion before you could respond to Dean. 

  
A soft voice behind you replied quietly, “My son.”

  
You turned your head and saw that Kelly was staring down at her pregnant stomach, rubbing it protectively, “Jack. He’s my son. She’s the reason she’s lied to everyone she loves. To protect him.”

  
“You really think the spawn of Satan isn’t going to come crawling out of her with hooves and a pitchfork?” Crowley asked sarcastically. 

  
You balled your hands into fists at your side and whipped around to address him again, “Crowley, I swear on my life, if you don’t shut up, I will end you! No matter the consequences! Do you hear me!?”

  
He swallowed hard, but tried to maintain a straight face, “Oh, I do love the foreplay, chipmunk, but quit the teasing. Just exactly what is going on with you. Have you been sipping the kool-aid? What exactly has you all powered up?”

  
You looked to Castiel, “Cas, can he not tell what I am?”

  
Your own personal guardian angel shook his head, “No. Only those with grace will recognize you when they see you. It serves to protect your identity.”

  
“What are you?” Crowley queried. 

  
You chose to ignore him and continued to talk with Castiel, “So, does that mean Lucifer will recognize me and know what I am when he sees me?”

  
He nodded, “Theoretically, yes. It might take him a brief moment to realize who you are, but he will be able to sense your grace.”

  
Crowley’s voice was suddenly uncharacteristically serious, “(Y/N), are you an angel?”

  
You looked back and forth between Sam, Dean and Castiel, silently having a conversation about whether or not to tell Crowley the truth about what you were. He certainly didn’t deserve to know all the details, and team free will certainly seemed to agree with you. However, you tipped the scales when you admitted reluctantly, “Look, I don’t want him to know either, but he’ll more of a nuisance if he doesn’t know.”

  
All three of the boys nodded in silent agreement at your rationale. You took in a deep breath and turned towards Crowley, “Ok, listen up you overcompensating diva. . . .”

  
“I do love when you call me by your little pet names,” Crowley interrupted. 

  
You rolled your eyes, “Have you ever heard of a venatrix?.”

  
He cocked his head to the side and eyed you up and down before flicking his gaze briefly to Castiel and back to you, “They don’t exist.”

  
You crossed your arms in front of you, “Really?”

  
“Not that I’ve ever heard. They’re a bedtime story angels tell in hushed tones to scare demons and other little goblins and ghouls that get out of line.”

  
With a flourish of your hands, you curtsied, “Well, ta-da. Dreams do come true.”

  
There was a moment of silence before Crowley let out a roaring laugh, his whole body shaking, “You! You? You’re a venatrix?” He paused to take in a wheezing breath, “No, no way chipmunk. No way these boys would be lucky enough to have one of the most powerful creatures drop down into their lives just in the nick of time to take on the bleeding devil.”

  
Castiel came to your defense, speaking in a somber tone, “It’s true, Crowley. She’s a venatrix. The first of her kind.”

  
The King of Hell guffawed a couple of more times before wiping tears of laughter away from his eyes. He pointed a finger to Dean, “So, uh, does this mean, you and bowlegs over here are soulmates.”

  
You saw Dean lick his lips out of the corner of your eye before he replied, “Yeah we are Crowley. Happy? Now, can we move on to more important matters.”

  
He smiled evilly at you and asked, “Oh, but I have to know, Dean. Does that mean you sliced yourself off a piece of your very own cherry pie?”

  
“_Dead! He’s dead! I’m going. To rip his vocal cords out with my bare teeth!_”

  
You didn’t know if anyone else said anything, because all you heard was ringing in your ears. Your vision went red and you lunged towards Crowley. Kelly had never mentioned if Castiel mentioned that little part of the transformation process but you knew you had definitely never talked to Mary about how her son took your _fucking virginity_ and now Crowley had the audacity to blurt it out!

  
Before you could stop yourself, you had the demon pinned to the floor and were landing blow after blow across his face. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized hands were tugging at your arms and pulling on the back of your shirt, but you were laser focused on beating the ever living shit out of Crowley. 

  
Finally, Dean’s yelling in your ear pulled you back to reality, “(Y/N)! Come on, stop!”

  
You punched Crowley across the face one more time before going limp and allowing Sam, Dean and Castiel to pull you back a safe distance from your victim. You closed your eyes and tried to stop shaking. Someone pulled out a chair from the table and sat you down to try and soothe you. You opened your eyes and saw Dean stooping down in front of you, his face laced with concern as he examined your hands, which were miraculously free of any cuts, bruises or signs that you had just been in a fight. He rubbed one hand up and down your right arm while the other wiped away tears from your face that you didn’t even realize were there. 

  
He cupped your cheek and you placed a hand over his before leaning into his touch, “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

  
Meanwhile, someone must’ve helped Crowley up from the ground as he was now sitting in his chair once again, straightening his tie. His face was covered in bruises and cuts, blood tricking down his nose. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his face, “Well, well, well Dean. Looks like you got a little hellcat on your hands. Must make for good angry sex.”

  
“_How in the hell is he still mouthing off at me?!_”

  
Just as you were about to leap up and unleash your fury again, Dean whirled around and punched Crowley across his jaw, knocking him to the ground once more. You were about to join him in the attack when Castiel jumped in and attempted to push you and Dean back. 

“Cas, get off of us!” Dean roared loudly. 

  
You could see the desperation in the angel’s eyes, “Dean! (Y/N)! Stop! Now is not the time for this!”

  
Sam joined in and eventually the two of them were able to back you away a safe distance from Castiel. You looked to your left and saw Kelly and Mary were staring at you with utter confusion. You turned your focus to Crowley and reveled in his disheveled figure on the floor, blood dripping down onto the hardwood from the split lip Dean had given him. 

  
You threw your hands in the air and caution to the wind, “Yes, Crowley! Yes! I was a virgin and Dean took my virginity. That’s how I came into my power! Happy?! Does that get your rocks off knowing I was a virgin? Does it?!”

  
He wiped the blood from his mouth with his handkerchief and stood up slowly from the ground, staring at you intensely but never saying a word. You saw Mary and Kelly’s eyes go wide from your admission, but they stayed silent. Finally, Dean huffed and spoke in a frustrated tone, “Can we just move on to more important matters? Please?!”

  
Sam tucked his hair behind his ears, “Yeah, I agree. Like, how exactly are we going to take down Lucifer?”

  
“I think the first thing we should do is call mother,” Crowley suggested. “After all, she’s the one that was going to help us put him back in the cage in the first place.”

  
Dean shook his head, “‘Us’? No, no, no, no, no. There is no ‘us’. You’re not sticking around for this show.”

  
He started to protest, “But I . . . ”

  
“Rowena’s dead because of you Crowley!” you shouted.

  
Everyone stared at you in stunned silence for several moments. Finally Crowley shook his head, “No, you’re bluffing.”

  
You spoke dangerously low, “No, I’m not. And Lucifer killed her. If you stay here he could possibly kill you as well. So you are going to lick your wounds and slink back to hell. Asmodeus is going to appear soon and when he does, you’re going to call us and let us know what he’s up to so that we can save your ass again. Got it?”

  
When he didn’t answer, Dean added, “Crowley, you heard her. Now are you going to play by our rules or run the risk of getting someone else killed?”

  
You knew Crowley and Rowena’s relationship was rocky, to put it gently, but he still loved her, that much was evident by the pain in his eyes when he realized his actions were the cause of his mother’s death. He took in a deep breath and succumbed to your and Dean’s will, “Fine. But if you change your mind . . .”

  
“We won’t,” Dean replied. 

  
“But if you do, call and I’ll be here faster than you can say ‘cherry pie’,” he said with a shit eating grin. 

  
You held out a hand to attack him, but before you could hurt him again, he was gone. 

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
Everyone seemed to sigh a relief now that Crowley was gone and out of the way. After a few seconds, you and everyone else that was standing joined your girl and Kelly at the table to figure out a game plan now that Lucifer was back on the game board. You sat down beside (Y/N) and took her hand in yours, even though you were peeved that she had failed to tell you about the possibility of Lucifer being alive. Before you could confront her and find out exactly what to expect and what beef she had with Asmodeus, Sam pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a couple of times and laid it out in front of him. He pressed the phone to put the call on speaker and the line rang out several times. 

  
(Y/N) squinted her eyes and leaned in to try and see who Sam was calling, “What are you doing?”

  
“I’m checking in with Rowena to see if she’s all right,” he replied solemnly. 

  
Before you could protest, the line quit ringing and for the first time, you heard the voice of Lucifer’s second most preferred vessel, Nick. He sighed into the phone and his sassy, overconfident attitude was on full display as he spoke, “Oh, hey Sammy. Oh, if you’re looking for Rowena, she is presently indisposed. Which is a delicate way of saying I stomped on her face till the white meat showed and then set her on fire, just in case. Ah, gingers.”

  
Castiel and Mary shook their head in denial while you squeezed your girl’s hand. Sam sighed heavily and Lucifer continued to drone on, “It was messy and screamy, but it had to be done, Sam. I’m about to be a dad. Can’t raise the little nipper from a jail cell now, can I? Speaking of . . . You know where your little pal Castiel is?”

  
Sam picked up the phone and held it close to his face, “Go to hell.”

  
“Ooh! Good one,” Lucifer replied, “Witty. I’ll use that in the future. All right, well, I’d love to chat with ya, but, uh, why waste my time, right? It’s not like you matter. I don’t need to put on the old Sam suit anymore, do I?”

  
You couldn’t hold back anymore, “You know, if you think we’re just gonna let you walk . . .”

  
“Oh, hey Dean!” he interjected, “I know you fellas are gonna try, you know, whatever. Whatever you’re gonna try. But you can’t kill me. You’ve never been able to kill me. And with uh, witch bitch gone, you can’t put be back in the Cage. So, like I said . . . you don’t matter. Okay? Buh-bye. Buh-bye.”

  
With that, the line went dead and everyone started speaking at once, so it was impossible to discern who was saying what. 

  
“What do we do know?”

  
“How could you let Rowena, die?”

  
“Can you even kill Lucifer, (Y/N)?”

  
“What does Asmodeus have to do with all of this?”

  
You raised your voice so that everyone could hear you above their blabbering, “All right! All right! Quiet! We’ll address one thing at a time.” You turned and looked at your girl, “You have some explaining to do. We need to know everything that you do know, even if you thought you had prevented it. What exactly is going on?”

  
She scanned the room a couple of times before finally answering, “It’s not a pretty story.”

  
“When is it ever?” Sam asked with a friendly smirk. 

  
She relaxed a little and started to tell the story of your alternate reality, “So, first I want you to know I am sorry, so so sorry that I didn’t let you in on Crowley’s plans to enslave Lucifer.” She looked specifically to you, her voice shaking, “It’s the hardest thing I’ve done and I just did it to protect Jack. I’m so sorry.”

  
You could tell that she did regret her actions, but that wouldn’t fix what had already been broken and you needed to remind her of that, “Yeah, well what about Rowena? Kinda too late for her, sweetheart.”

  
A small smile crept across her face, “Nah, Rowena is fine.”

  
Mary exhaled sharply, “What? Did you not just hear Lucifer on the phone?”

  
“Oh no, she’s dead for now and I will do whatever I can to make it up for her, but she’s not really dead,” your girl replied. 

  
“And how can you be so sure about that?” Sam asked. 

  
She pointed a finger to herself, “I’m from the future, remember?”

  
“But what if this is different?” he shot back angrily. Even though you were still skeptical of Rowena’s intentions, you knew your brother had a bit of a soft spot for her and he was taking her death hard. 

  
“Because Sam,” (Y/N) started slowly, taking in a deep breath before continuing, “You might not be ready to hear this, but Death has a library.”

  
You furrowed your eyebrows, “A library? Seriously? But, I thought I killed Death?”

  
She nodded, “Yes, a library. She . . .”

  
“She?” Castiel asked

  
(Y/N) exhaled sharply, “Yes, Cas. Once you killed Billie, she became Death. So, anyway . . .”

  
“Wait a minute,” Kelly started, “Death is an actual person and she hangs out in a library?”

  
You could tell (Y/N) was getting frustrated with being interrupted. She bit her lip and nodded slowly, “Yes, Kelly. Death is an actual person, well a reaper that died really. It’s a long ass story.” Kelly nodded in understanding and your girl tried once again to tell her story, “So, in Death’s library, everybody has books about how they could die.”

  
“How do you know this?” you asked. 

  
“Because she showed you your shelf in a future episode on a case that we haven’t encountered yet.”

  
“I have a whole shelf? Awesome!”

  
She chuckled, “I’m glad you think that’s awesome Dean. Anyway, When it comes to Rowena, there are different ways she dies, but in every scenario, it’s Sam that kills her.”

  
Your brother held up a hand in her direction, “Uh, wait, wait, wait a minute. Hold on. Are you serious?”

  
She nodded, “Yes. Now, I never got to see if that was true or not, but that’s what Billie said.”

  
Castiel spoke up, “(Y/N), you said Crowley was going to die if he let Lucifer free. But now that he’s gone, what exactly do we have to expect?”

  
She looked gloomily between your best friend, your mother and Kelly, “It wasn’t pretty. So, tomorrow on Jack’s birthday, he’s going to open up a rift. I know we’ve already talked about the plan to hop over there so we can go back at a later date and save that reality from Michael. But, now that Lucifer is free, I, I just don’t know.”

  
“Honey, just tell us what happened in your world,” your mother urged encouragingly. 

  
She took in a deep breath, “Well, obviously you didn’t have me or the lance of Michael, so you didn’t have many options. Cas ran into the other Bobby on that side and he showed him the bullets made out of angel blades. So, when Lucifer showed up, Sam and Dean lured him over there and tried to kill him with those bullets, but it didn’t work. Meanwhile, Crowley performed some spell to sacrifice himself to close the rift and trap Lucifer over there. However, Lucifer manages to escape back to this world. He killed Castiel and then Mary attacked him and tried to shove him back into the other world and, while she was able to do that, he pulled her over there too and she was trapped over there for months.”

  
You stared at the table, processing what she said for a few moments before finally uttering, “Holy shit.”

  
“Yeah, see why I spared you the details?”

  
“Lucifer really killed me?” Castiel asked in disbelief. 

  
She replied shakily, “Ye-yeah he did. You went to the Empty. Jack manages to bring you back later, but the Empty was not happy about it and it was this whole thing with it wanting to pull you back and just a lot of drama I want to avoid.”

  
“And we will,” you announced confidently. 

  
Mary reached across the table and held out her hand towards (Y/N), “Hell yeah we will. No one else is dying.”

  
“But wait,” Castiel added, “What’s going on with Asmodeus?”

  
“Well, if I had known this was going to happen for sure, I would’ve wanted to go after him sooner, because he has a an old friend of ours,” your girl answered. 

  
“Who?” Sam asked. 

  
“Gabriel.”

  
“Gabriel!?”

  
She nodded her head, “Yeah, he’s alive. But before you ask me how, I think it’s his story to tell. We’ll save him, I promise.”

  
“That Prince of Hell douchebag is going down,” you declared angrily. 

  
“So right now, I think I should head back to the bunker real quick, grab the lance and we can come up with a plan for tomorrow night.”

  
Mary smiled at her, “Well, I’ve always wanted to punch the devil in the face.”

  
“Me too,” she replied. 

  
Kelly pushed down on the top to help herself stand up, “Well, this is a lot to take in and process.”

  
Your girl was immediately by her side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Kelly, I promise, nothing bad is going to happen.”

  
Kelly grinned, “Thanks, I . . . . OW!” 

  
Sam quickly rushed to Kelly’s other side just as she slammed her hands down on the table, grunting in pain. She managed to pull one hand away and rubbed at her stomach, grimacing in pain. However, when she did, a small, orange string of light flowed out from her hand and towards the back door of the cabin. (Y/N)’s face dropped and all the color disappeared from her complexion until she was ashen white. Her eyes followed the mysterious force of energy and soon she was walking out the back door behind its path. 

  
“No, no, no, no, no, no,” she whispered barely loud enough to hear. 

  
Sam stayed behind with Kelly while everyone else, including you, trailed behind her. The light had stopped about halfway between the lake and the house. It turned vertical and grew until it was about six feet tall. You heard Kelly moan out in pain and the light flickered and appeared to grow stronger. Castiel made his way around the mysterious light, examining it. You came up behind (Y/N) and splayed your hand across her lower back and asked a question you feared you already knew the answer to, “Sweetheart, what is this?”

  


She shook her head, “No, no it can’t be. It’s the seventeenth. Jack isn’t supposed to be born until the eighteenth. We’re supposed to have one more night.”

  
Mary stepped forward, “This is it, the rift isn’t it?”

  
She turned and placed her hands on your upper forearms, “Dean, what if, what if today’s the day? What if Jack is born after midnight and Lucifer is coming tonight and not tomorrow?”

  
You gripped her chin and forced her to keep eye contact with you, “Then we kick his ass.”

  
******  
**Reader’s POV**

  
If you weren’t something more than human, you were pretty sure that Kelly would’ve actually ground your bones to dust with how fierce she was squeezing your hand as another contraction wracked through her body. You did your best to hide how much she was actually hurting you and focused on helping her to try and control her breathing as she huffed and puffed through the agony of childbirth. Once her contraction had passed, she rolled her head back and leaned against the wooden headboard of her bed. Her white nightgown was already damps in spots from sweat and her hair was a frizzy mess. She released your hand long enough for you to stand and walk over to the adjacent bathroom, wet a fresh wash cloth and return to lay it across her forehead. 

She smiled, “Thanks, (Y/N).”

  
You sighed, “Kelly, are you sure that you don’t want me to fix it so you don’t feel the pain?”

  
She grimaced, “No, I need to go through this.”

  
“Kelly, no you don’t . . .”

  
She reached out and grabbed your hand again, “Yes, I do. I don’t want to be numb for this. It might . . . It might be the last thing I experience and I want to remember every detail.”

  
You squeezed her hand, “Kelly, no. No, I told you I’m . . .”

  
She nodded, “I know what you want to do. But that might not happen and I want to remember my last day. I want to feel everything.”

  
Before you could protest further, she reached over to her nightstand table and opened up the top drawer. From within, she pulled out an intricately decorated wooden box that held several USB drives. She ran her hands over them delicately and uttered, “I took your advice.”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
She smiled down into the box, “I’ve made . . . Gosh . . . I don’t know how many videos for Jack. There’s videos in here for the next eighteen birthdays, Christmases and any other holiday I could think of.”

  
“Kelly . . .” you said warningly. 

  
“And,” she continued on firmly, “ . . . under the bed there’s a box of scrapbooks I’ve made for him filled with pictures and handwritten letters.”

  
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the building tears from falling, “Well, good work. Now you can give them to him yourself.”

  
“Maybe, maybe not. But just in case, please make sure he gets it.”

  
You leaned forward and pulled her into a tight embrace, “I will Kelly. I will, I promise.” You leaned back and asked, “Hey, can I try to show you something?”

  
She titled her head to the side, “What do you mean?”

  
You placed your hands on either side of her forehead, “I wanna try to show you your son, what he looks like from the memories I have. Is that ok?”

  
Her lip quivered, “You really think you could do that?”

  
“I think so,” you said as you closed your eyes and tried to focus on Jack. You let his smile, his sweet little greetings and other iconic images flash through your head. 

  
It must’ve worked because after a few seconds, Kelly gasped and placed her right hand over your left, “(Y/N)! Is that . . . Jack?”

  
You continued to let pictures flash through you mind and focused on sharing them with her, “Yeah, it is.”

The two of you sat there for several moments, holding onto each other. Even though you hadn’t spent much time with Kelly in person, the two of you shared a profound bound and she was like a sister to you at this point. Once you were done cycling through your memories a third time, you dropped your hands away from Kelly and opened your eyes to find she was silently crying. She quickly pulled you in for another quick, but warm, hug. 

  
After she released you, you wiped the tears from her face and grinned, “Okay, pull it together. We got a long night ahead of us.”

  
She nodded and thanked you profusely for showing her what her son would look like. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. You both turned to see Mary standing there, “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but the boys are getting antsy. They’re ready to go.”

  
“Thanks, Mary,” you answered as you stood up from the side of the bed, “I appreciate you staying here with Kelly.”

  
Mary made her way over to you and gave you a brief hug, “No problem. I’ll watch over her.”

  
As you exited the room, you looked back one last time and saw that both Mary and Kelly were watching you leave. You waved them goodbye and reassured them that you would see them soon. As you were walking down the hallway towards the staircase, you bumped into Castiel. 

  
“Cas, what are you doing up here?”

  
He looked towards the staircase and then back to you, “Dean sent me. I think he’s getting anxious and was afraid to come up here after you.”

  
You giggled, “Good, he should know better than to rush me.”

  
Cas smiled softly at your reply and before he could say anything else, you looked around to make sure no one was watching. You gently grabbed his arm and pulled him into your bedroom, shutting the door behind the two of you. 

  
He stared in confusion, “(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

  
“Cas, I know you want to come with us, but I wish you’d stay here.”

  
“(Y/N) . . .”

  
“Between Sam, Dean and I we have enough firepower to hop over for a few minutes and I need to know there’s someone here that can come save us just in case.”

  
He shook his head, “I don’t think Dean is going to like this.”

You scoffed, “Well too bad. This is the smartest plan. Plus, I need you to protect something for me.”

  
“What?”

  
You snapped your fingers and a glass vial appeared in your hand, “Do you have your angel blade?”

  
He furrowed his eyebrows, “Why? What are you up to?”

  
“Cas, I need you to extract a little bit of my grace.”

  
“No!” he protested adamantly, “You’re going to need all your strength for tonight.”

  
“Cas! Listen to me, I will be fine. But if something happens and we get stuck over there, you’re gonna need my grace to open up the rift, or at least try to.”

  
His face was covered in concern, “How do you know that will work?”

  
You placed a hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him, “Because I know there’s a spell in the demon tablet that will show you how to open up a rift. Donatello can translate it if needed, but just watch out for him.”

  
“What’s wrong with Donatello?”

  
“Without his soul, the tablet kind of corrupts him. But, if you keep a close eye on him, maybe he’ll be okay.”

  
Castiel shifted nervously back and forth, “(Y/N), I don’t . . .”

  
“I know it’s a lot to ask of you Cas, but we have to have a backup plan.” You stood back and looked up at the ceiling, exposing your neck to him, “Please, Cas. If archangel grace can open the rift then I know mine will be able to.”

  
Cas sighed heavily, but after a few seconds, you heard the blade ruffling against his tan trench coat as it slipped out from his sleeve. He gingerly held the tip of the weapon to your throat and swiftly cut a small incision. The burning from the blade was surprisingly soothed by the cool, glass vial as he held it up and extracted a small amount of your grace. Once the vial was full, he popped the cap on and you held your hand up to your own neck to heal the cut. He stowed his angel blade away and tucked your grace into the inside pocket of his coat. 

  
“Thanks Cas,” you said before giving him a small hug. “Okay, we better get going before . . .”

  
Suddenly, a familiar voice came booming from downstairs, “(Y/N)! Cas! Let’s go!”

  
You shrugged your shoulders and a small giggle escaped your lips, “Oops, guess we took too long. Better get going!”

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
“I don’t like this. Cas should be coming with us,” you stated as you stared into the pulsating orange light emanating from the rift. 

  
You could feel her roll her eyes when she replied, “Yes, Dean, we are all very well aware. But we can’t put all of our eggs into one basket.”

  
You cocked your head to the side and looked at her fondly, “You’re weird.”

  
“And you’re stubborn. Look, Cas needs to stay behind in case of emergency. If I had it my way I would have one of you two stay too,” she said pointing between you and your brother. “But, if I go, I know you’re not staying . . .”

  
“You’re damn right.”

  
“And if you go, then Sam isn’t going to stay.”

  
Sam threw an arm around your girl’s shoulders from her other side, “Well, actually I’m just going because you’re going. Can’t let my honorary little sister get into trouble, now can I?”

  
She lightly elbowed him in the side, “You do know I’m more powerful than you, right?”

  
“See sweetheart,” you added, “If you stayed then only two of us would be going over there.” 

  
She slowly turned her head and stared daggers at your soul, sending chills down your spine, but you did your best to hide your fear. You shrugged, “I’m just saying.”

  
“Don’t make me hurt you,” she teased, biting her lip. 

  
You held your head up higher and looked down at her, “I’d like to see you try.”

  
She stuck her tongue out as Sam spoke up, “Okay, enough you two. Before this goes down a road that I don’t need to see, let’s go.”

  
“Party pooper,” she mumbled before turning around and looking to Cas and flicking her eyes up towards the second floor bedroom window where your mother and Kelly were, “We’ll be right back. Take care of them.”

  
“I promise, (Y/N),” he replied seriously. 

  
She returned her focus to the rift, sighed heavily and took a step forward, “All right Winchesters, last one over is hellhound chow.”

  
With that, she stepped forward and as she disappeared into the other world, the rift flashed a bright white before returning to its normal orange hue. You took no time in following right after her and heard the sound of dirt and gravel crunching underneath Sam’s boots as he scurried to catch up to you. Just as you were about to step forward into the rift, you felt him snatch the back of your jacket and yank you backwards. You stumbled and fell against him, but his forward momentum propelled you forward once more until the two of you were tumbling through the rift. 

  
Before you could regain your balance, you fell face first into the dry, dusty landscape of “apocalypse world” as your girl had called it. Sam landed on top of you, knocking the wind out of you and crushing you further into the dirt. In the back of your mind, you registered (Y/N) roaring with laughter, wheezing as she tried to catch her breath. 

  
You coughed and tried to wipe the dust from your face, “Sam, get off of me!!”

  
You grunted and pushed him off and to the side where landed with a dull thud against the sandy turf. You couldn’t help but to let out a growl and utter, “Son of a bitch,” as you finally stood up, knocking the excess dirt off of your clothes. (Y/N) was quickly at your side, making sure you were okay, “Easy there tiger, I didn’t mean that one of the two of you would be literal hellhound chow.”

  
“Hey, don’t blame me, he’s the one that tackled me to the ground.”

  
Sam gave you one of his signature bitchfaces as he stood up, “Whatever, man. It was just for fun.”

  
“Uh huh, yeah sure,” you retorted. She gently patted you on the chest and you were finally able to assess the new world around you. The heavy gray clouds covered the sky, blocking out any chance of sun reaching the Earth’s surface. The barren dust bowl kicked up sand and debris as the wind whipped around you, making the horizon foggy and unfocused. Behind you, several large hills blocked your view from whatever lay beyond it. Just a few hundred feet ahead there were scattered corpses around several looming, triangular shaped towers that resembled the tips of angel blades. 

  
Red thunder clapped overhead, catching all of your attention for the briefest of moments. Suddenly, there was a snarling to your right and you turned just in time to see Sam get knocked over the head and back down to the ground by a creature unlike any you had seen before. It looked almost human, except for its yellowed, pointed teeth, dark eyes and the four black horns sticking out of its forehead. The creature was dressed in brown rags, stained with blood and even from a few feet away, it radiated with the stench of death. 

  
“Sam!” you cried out as you reached for the demon blade stowed away in the back of your jeans and ran to fight off the monster. However, before you could take one step forward, your girl snapped her fingers and the monster vanished into dust. You helped Sam help before looking back and saw she was standing there with a satisfied smile on her lips. 

  
“You’re welcome,” she said smoothly. 

  
Sam rubbed the back of his head and you looked to make sure he wasn’t bleeding. Once he was steady on his feet he nodded at her and replied, “Thanks (Y/N).”

  
A gunshot cut through the air, causing all of you to jump and turn your focus to another figure now slowly making its way through the mist. Instead of running and attacking you, it was strolling calmly, gun pointed at your girl as he came closer and closer. His tattered brown jacket swung gently in the breeze as he neared you. You squinted your eyes, trying to make out if he was another one of those creatures or not, but his face was covered by a handmade scarf. Even though you couldn’t see much of this mysterious figure, you swore there was something familiar in his eyes. Instinctively, you moved closer to (Y/N). 

  
He quickly pointed the gun at you and grumbled, “Don’t move boy, or I’ll shoot you then her.”

  
She quickly threw her hands up in the air as thunder rumbled and red lightening crackled across the sky, “Now, now, there’s no need for that. We’re all friends here.”

  
He stopped when he was a few yards out from you. “Friends,” he answered sarcastically and lowered his scarf so you could see his face, “Lady, I don’t know about you, but no friend of mine can snap a monster of out existence like that.”

“_Son of a bitch! Bobby?_”

  
She did a small curtsy, “Well, Bobby, now you do.”

  
His face scrunched up in complete confusion, “Am I supposed to know who you are?”

  
Sam started, “Bobby. It’s . . . It’s us. Sam and . . . and Dean.”

  
He nodded his head, “Uh-huh. You say that like it’s supposed to mean something to me, but . . . naw, it doesn’t.”

  
You pointed between you and your brother, “Bobby, it’s us. Sam and Dean Winchester.”

  
He slightly lowered his gun, “The only Winchester I ever heard of was John.”

  
“Yeah,” your brother answered, “John Winchester, our father.”

  
Bobby shook his head, “Doubt it. He’s dead. Been dead for over forty years now. Only reason I know about him is this hunter I ran with, Mary Campbell. You get a few pints of shine into her and she always told the same story about the man she loved, John Winchester. Azazel killed her about ten years ago.”

  
You wet your lips with your tongue, “(Y/N) . . . What the hell is he talking about?”

  
She took in a deep breath, “Dean, do you remember when you went back in time for the first time and met your mother, her parents and your father?”

  
You nodded your head, “Yeah, what about it?”

  
“So now you guys can time travel too?” Bobby asked skeptically. 

  
She waved a hand at him, “It’s a long ass story, Bobby. Anyway, so when Azazel killed your father, Mary had a choice to make. She could make a deal with him to let him come into Sam’s room six months after he was born or let John die. In your world, she obviously made that deal. But here . . .”

  
“She said ‘no’,” Sam said quietly, realization dawning over him. 

  
“Exactly. So you two weren’t born and Michael defeated Lucifer, destroying the world in the process” she replied, turning to Sam and taking his hands in hers, “So as much guilt as your mother might have over your choices and as much as you might have felt like a failure or a freak growing up, this world turned out a hell of a lot worse.”

  
Sam smiled sweetly at (Y/N) while you scoffed, “Doesn’t seem like either is a great choice.”

  
Bobby lowered his gun and tentatively stepped forward, towards the rift, “So, are you telling me that you three are from another world?”

  
Your girl nodded towards you and Sam as she spoke, “Yep. That light behind us is a way back to our world. It’s another Earth where these two idjits are the sons of Mary and John Winchester. They defeated Lucifer and managed to trap Michael in the cage. But other stuff has happened and . . . Like I said, it’s a long story.”

  
A small, brief smile ghosted across Bobby’s lips, “Did . . . did you just call them idjits?”

  
Your girl smiled shyly back at him, “Yeah, well you used to do it and I guess I’m just borrowing it for a while.”

  
“What exactly are you?”

  
She tossed her head back and forth a few times, “I guess, I’m kind of like an angel, but something more. It doesn’t really matter.”

  
“The hell it doesn’t,” Bobby replied a little more sternly. 

  
The sky rumbled once more as she cocked her hip and crossed her arms, “Look, Bobby, we’re friends here. Obviously I could’ve killed you by now if I wanted to, but I haven’t.”

  
He held up his gun, “Same goes for me with this, but you do look different. You’re not wearing a necklace made out of baby ears for one thing.” He took in a deep breath and visibly relaxed when none of you attempted to threaten or attack him. He pointed his gun towards the rift, “When this . . . whatever opened up, all sorts of alarms went off back at my place. I got here just in time to see you all getting ambushed by a tempter demon, but looks like you can handle it all on your own.”

  
“A what?” you asked. 

  
She answered, “It’s just another nastier type of demons with horns.”

  
Sam spoke up, “Wait a second. Demons have horns now?”

  
“It’s a whole new world, Sam,” you replied. 

She stepped towards you until the two of you were standing side by side so she was able to wrap and arm around your back. She titled her head up and winked, “Easy there, Aladdin.”

  
You curled an arm around her back and pulled her closer to her just as Bobby asked, “So, no apocalypse on your side? No Michael or angels roaming the Earth, hunting the human race into extinction?”

  
You shook your head, “Not yet at least.”

  
“Sounds like peaches and cream on your side.”

  
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. But, it’s definitely better than this.”

  
Bobby shrugged, “Well, I don’t know. It ain’t so bad here, if you like killing angels.” He looked back towards the rift, “So . . . I figure it’s only a matter of time before the winged dicks upstairs get wind’a this. And when they show,” he lifted up his gun in the air, “me and Rufus go to work. He’s loaded with a hundred rounds, cast from old angel blades. So, what are you stooges doing hopping from one reality to another?”

  
The three of you looked nervously at one another until you finally answered, “Uh, well, do you want a lie or the truth?”

  
Bobby’s voice was gruff and harsh, “Well, I don’t have time for lies, boys. What do you got?”

  
“All right, you asked for it,” you replied before pointing at your girl with your free hand, “See her? This is (Y/N). She’s from a totally different reality where mine and my brother’s life are a TV show.”

  
“And she was a few years ahead of us, so she knows what’s going to happen,” Sam added. 

  
Your girl placed a hand on your chest, “Me and this Neanderthal are apparently soulmates and I’m an angelic being known as a venatrix.”

  
Bobby’s jaw practically dropped to the ground, but you continued on with the explanation, “On top of that, our Lucifer is still alive and he managed to impregnate someone. His son is a few hours away from being born, but apparently he’s going to be a good kid and won’t be evil like his devil daddy.”

  
Sam spoke next, “You see, we did have the devil locked in the cage, but we thought we needed him to fight the darkness, God’s sister, but we didn’t. When we tried to put him back, the King of Hell managed to trick us and put him back into his old vessel to try and humiliate him, but then he broke free.”   


She chuckled, “So, Lucifer is on his way to the lake house we’re staying at, but we hopped over here real quick because when his son is born, the rift will close. But, we want to come back later to help you and your people fight off Michael, but we have some other stuff we need to do first. However, in order to come back here, we needed to come here so we could use like a piece of our hair in a spell to open the rift back up later. I think that pretty much covers it, right, Dean?”

  
“Yep, that sounds about right. Any questions?”

  
Bobby stood there, mouth agape as the three of you finished your ridiculous, but absolutely true story, and waited for him to respond. He looked back and forth between all of you several times before his gaze finally landed on (Y/N), “You really think you can take down Michael?”

  
She smiled confidently, “Abso-fucking-lutely, Bobby.”

  
He held out a hand towards her and she accepted it, shaking his hand firmly. Bobby nodded in understanding, “All right then. Just don’t make me regret not shooting you on sight.”

  
Shortly thereafter, the three of you returned back to your world and decided on a game plan with Castiel. The rest of the night was relatively boring as everyone waited for Lucifer to show up. The only sounds to occasionally cut through the deafening silence was the screams of Kelly in labor. Your mother was her anchor and (Y/N) frequently went upstairs to check on her as well. 

  
The tension in the air thickened as the clock ticked towards midnight and your inevitable showdown with the devil neared. Even though you had your girl, you couldn’t shake the mounting pressure that intensified with every passing minute. You tried to busy yourself by prepping clips for your gun, even though they would be useless. Still, the menial task gave you something to do with your hands and kept you from pacing back and forth to work out your nervous energy. 

  
You popped a fresh clip into Sam’s gun and handed it to him as he passed behind you to stand by the side of the table, “You ready?”

  
“Nope, but when has that ever stopped us?” 

  


You smacked a freshly packed slip into your own gun, “Yeah.”

  
Suddenly, your girl came traipsing down the stairs. She smiled warmly at you, and casually strolled over until she was standing beside you. She ran a hand underneath your jacket and across your chest, making her way up to massage your shoulder, sending warmth up and down your body. 

  
She leaned down and kissed your cheek, whispering in your ear, “Hey you, It’s gonna be okay. I’m not done bothering your stubborn ass, remember?”

  
You scooted your chair back and pulled her into your lap until she was sitting sideways. You cupped her cheek and she leaned into your touch. As you stroked a thumb back and forth across your soft flesh, you asked, “How can you be so positive right now?”

  
She chuckled and her eyes widened, “Oh, I’m a fucking mess on the inside right now. My stomach is in knots, I can’t stop shaking and I’m about five seconds from puking all over you, but I’m trying to suppress all that shit.”

  
You couldn’t help but to grin, “I see I’ve taught you well then. Thanks for not throwing up on me. You’re a classy lady.”

  
“Yeah, yeah, cowboy,” she uttered before moving forward and pressing her lips softly against yours. She tasted sweet and soon, she was threading her fingers through the hair on the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. You moaned as she softly slid her tongue into your mouth, her touch helping to calm your nerves and make you forget the outside world and all of its troubles for just a few brief moments. 

  
She broke away and gave you one more quick peck on the lips before sliding out of your lap and pulling you to stand beside her so she could hug you. You rubbed her back and looked down at her, then back to your brother, “I have faith in us. All of us. You, me, Sam, mom, Cas. I think this is gonna work. It has to.”

  
Just as Cas made his way down the stairs from speaking with Kelly once more, she stumbled backwards in your arms, but you were able to keep her from falling, “Hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  
She pressed a hand to her forehead and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, “Dean, I . . . I think he’s here. I can feel . . . It’s not quite an evil presence. At least not like I’d expect. It’s more like, like feelings of anger, pain and betrayal. But, it has to be him. Who else would it be?”

  
Sam cocked his gun and tucked it into the back of his jeans, “Okay then. Everybody ready?”

  
You kissed your girl on the forehead, “Yeah. We’re ready.” You hugged her one more time and followed your brother and Cas outside the front door to face Lucifer, throwing her a wink before shutting the front door behind you. 

  
Outside, you immediately recognized Lucifer’s old vessel, Nick. He sauntered lazily over to you, wearing worn out jeans a brown leather jacket that was zipped all the way up. The three of you spread out, forming a barricade between him and the lake house behind you. 

  
He spoke in his usual cocky demeanor, “Well, this is a fun surprise.”

  
From your side, you heard Cas drop his angel blade down from his coat sleeve. Lucifer’s eyes flicked toward the blade, but his attitude didn’t change, “I gotta hand it to you guys. You never give up, even when you should. Even when it would be stupid not to.”

  
“Look,” Sam started, “Whatever you’re planning on doing, Chuck . . . God will stop you, just like he did last time.”

  
Lucifer tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and feigned worry, “You’re right. What should I do?” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and waved them up in the air as he spoke in a mocking tone, “Oh, God! Don’t strike me dead!” He laughed and look back towards your group, “Come on, Sam. You sound like a virgin in Jesus camp. We can’t! God is watching! No. Chuck walked. He’s gone.”

  
“So, you’re just gonna smash his toys?” you asked. 

  
He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Exactly. ‘Cause every time I look at this sad, trash fire of a world, you know what I keep thinking? I could do so much better.”

  
“So apocalypse, take two. That’s your plan?”

  
“When in doubt, go with the classics. That’s what I always say,” he replied before taking in a deep breath, “Well, boys, enough with the foreplay. Let’s do this.”

  
You exhaled sharply, “See you on the other side, boys.”

  
Castiel rushed forward, his angle blade held high to try and stab Lucifer, but the archangel quickly swatted him away, just as (Y/N) said he would. Cas grunted and landed hard on the ground, rolling to his side. 

  
Lucifer giggled, yes, actually fucking giggled at you, “Well, that worked.”

  
You and Sam made eye contact for a brief second before taking off and running around the side of the house to take your designated positions. In no time, you and Sam were hiding behind your respective trees, but you could still see and hear Lucifer coming around the corner. 

  
“Mature. Real mature!” he called out as he ambled down the side of the house towards you. “You guys! I really want to enjoy this. Really wanna savor just ripping you apart. Gettin’ all up in there and gettin’ all gooey. But, you know, little slugger’s almost here and uh . . . Well I’m on the clock.”

  
As he finally made his way to the back of the house you saw him cock his head to the side when he saw the rift. Before he could say anything else, you saw your girl walking confidently up behind him, hips swaying as she moved. Her arms were tucked behind her back and you couldn’t help but to laugh to yourself at her first words to the devil. 

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You surreptitiously peaked through the curtains covering the front windows and watched the boys talk to Lucifer as they lulled him into a false sense of security that he would win the impending fight. Your heart leaped up into your throat when Cas was knocked to the side, but you knew he’d be okay. Once the boys and Lucifer disappeared around the side of the house, you opened the door and made your way up behind the devil, hands tucked behind you so he wouldn’t see the surprise you had waiting for him. 

  


He was assessing the rift in the backyard and when you were just a few feet away, you yelled as loudly as you could, “Hey assbutt!!”

  
You cackled inwardly, “_I’ve always wanted to say that!_”

  
He slowly turned around and stared at you with amusement, “Ooh, who do we have here?”

  
You smirked and made sure the Enochian brass knuckles were firmly in your grasp before you delivered a punch with your left fist, immediately followed by a right uppercut. Lucifer was knocked backwards onto the ground, his lip bleeding. Your inner self was dancing around around, pumping her fists in the air and humming the theme song to “_Rocky_” to cheer you on. 

Lucifer quickly scampered to his feet, but you immediately punched him in the stomach, followed by another blow to the face as you yelled, “This is for what you did to Ellen. And this is for Jo!”

  
He fell back to the ground and curled up into a fetal position, so you started kicking him and continued to scream angrily at him, “This is for creating Lilith and making her hurt Dean and Sam! This is for fighting the damn apocalypse and forcing Adam to say yes to Michael, you selfish asshole! This is for Castiel and making him a vessel for you! This is for killing Rowena!”

  
On your next kick, Lucifer managed to grab your foot and pulled you down to the ground long enough for him to stand up. You knew he still wouldn’t be able to hurt you, so you laid there, watching him tower over you, trying to act intimidating. He brushed off the dust from his leather jacket and wiped the blood away from his split lip. He smirked and held up a hand high in the air. 

  
“I don’t know who you think you are, but bye-bye,” he stated confidently before snapping his fingers. 

  
You felt a slight electric tingle shoot up and down your spine, but that was it. Lucifer’s cocky grin dropped and he snapped his fingers again, sending the same tingle radiating out throughout your body. 

  
You laughed and picked yourself up off of the ground, “Oh Luci, do you really not recognize who I am yet?”

  
Before he could answer, you straightened your back, throwing your shoulders back and unfurling your wings for him to see. A bright, silver light shone from behind you as your proudly displayed your angelic accessory. 

  
“Ah, come on!” he yelled in your face before taking a few steps back, “A fucking venatrix?! They’re just supposed to be one of daddy’s failed experiments!”

  
You stowed your wings away, “Well, looks like he got it right at least one time. Come on, Lucifer, why are you wasting your time acting like a petulant toddler stomping around in the sandbox because their daddy won’t pay attention to them? Yes, maybe God . . . Chuck, treated you unfairly, but COME ON!” You threw your hands up in the air, “You’re an all powerful being! You could live whatever life you want and you choose destruction? It’s been millions of years, get over it!”

  
Lucifer set his jaw in a hard line and tried to stare you down, but when you didn’t flinch or show any sign of backing down, he deflected the situation off of him. He smirked, “So, if you’re here, who was it?”

  
“Excuse me?”

  
“Oh, please tell me it was my favorite prom date. Please tell me it was my little Sammy that got to deflower a sweet, innocent venatrix for the first time properly.”

  
You shivered with disgust, “Ugh, gross.” 

  
A familiar hand pressed into the small of your back, “Trust me, she’s not so sweet and innocent.”

  
Lucifer gasped in mocking shock, “Dean! No, not you! Not the man slut.” Lucifer pretended to whisper only to you, but clearly everyone could hear him, “I mean, I hope you made him wrap it before he tapped it. Don’t want to catch anything you can’t get rid of. Dean isn’t like Las Vegas.”

  
Lava hot rage flowed your through veins as you lunged forward and tackled him to the ground, landing punch after punch across his smug face as you screamed, “Shut up! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH AN ASSHOLE!” 

  
After God knows how long, you felt two different pairs of hands pull on your arms, trying to pry you off of Lucifer as you continued to yell insults and profanities in his face. By the time Sam and Cas successfully extracted you from Lucifer, your lungs were burning, your knuckles were actually bruised and bloodied and angry tears stained your face. 

  
It took Lucifer a minute, but the four of you allowed him to make his way to his feet. He glared angrily at you, “I may not be able to hurt you exactly, but your friends are a different story.”

  
Before he could try to carry out whatever nefarious plan he had concocted, Dean jumped forward, stabbing him in the gut with the lance of Michael he had hidden outside earlier. Lucifer grunted and howled in pain before regaining his senses enough to push the lance of out him. 

  
He clasped his hands over his wounds and stumbled backwards. His voice was strained, “Where . . . Where did you find that?”

  
Dean smiled and winked at you, “Ancient Chinese secret.”

  
You winked back at him before stepping forward to grab Lucifer by his neck, marching him back towards the rift. You gritted your teeth and practically snarled in his face, “You wanted an apocalypse so fucking bad, I’ll give you your damn apocalypse. You want it? You can die there!”

  
You mustered all of your strength and threw Lucifer into the rift. However, just as you let go of him, he grabbed onto your arm with his last bit of strength, pulling you in with him. You heard Cas, Sam and Dean all cry out, “NO!” as you fell into the rift with Lucifer. 

  
The two of you rolled and tumbled onto the dusty ground of the apocalypse world. Lucifer stayed on the ground, moaning in pain from his stab wound, but you managed to quickly scurry to your feet. Just as you took one step towards the rift, the light crackled, flashed and disappeared out of existence, leaving you stranded in this new world. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think is going to happen next?!?! I will do my best not to leave you in suspense for too long! As always, I absolutely LOVE reading comments. In the meantime, if you want to read another story while you wait for my update, there is one that I have personally fully read and is completed, so you won’t have to wait for updates! That is “True Colors” by vrskaandrea. She is currently writing a sequel, but the initial story is completed. Go check it out!  
Until next time, please stay safe! 🤗 😘 🤗 😘


	48. Angelic Nuisance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone begins to deal with the after effects of Lucifer’s unexpected attack and Jack’s birth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! Hopefully this wasn’t too long of a wait for you, but I hope you enjoy the chapter. I actually already have the next chapter almost ready to publish and plan to upload it within 24 hours of posting this one. Now, without further ado, on with the show!

*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
The lance of Michael fell away to your side as you dropped to your knees on the cold, wet sand. You reached out desperately, searching for the portal that you knew was now long gone, “No. No, no, no, no, no,” you repeated over and over, your voice growing quieter with each declaration of denial you managed to audibly utter. Your body went numb and cold with disbelief and dread. The rest of the world around you faded into black until there was only you and your quick, shallow breathing filling the silence. Sure, you had been through a lot in your life, but the only time you could ever remember feeling this hopeless, this lost, was over ten years ago when you rolled up to Cold Oak, South Dakota just in time to see Sam have his spinal cord sliced in half by Jake, another one of Azazel’s demon blood children. 

  
  


  
You shook your head, “No, she . . . She can’t be . . . ,” you trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. “We won. We _won_!” you screamed angrily into the night, “We finally fucking won and she . . . she . . . ”

  
In the back of your mind, you registered an electrical humming and flashing lights coming from the house. Sam softly placed a hand on your shoulder, “Dean . . .”

  
You violently shrugged him away, “Don’t!”

  
He pulled his hand back and was quiet for a few seconds before finally turning around and making his way back inside the lake house. 

  
Cas sighed heavily, “We’ll get her back, Dean.”

  
You gritted your teeth and did everything to fight back angry tears welling up in your eyes, “How?! How are we suppose to do that?”

  
“Dean, she . . .”

  
“It’s his fault,” you growled dangerously low. 

  
“Dean, what do you mean?” Cas asked with a hint of trepidation in his voice. 

  
You stood up, reaching for your gun, “If she hadn’t been brainwashed into thinking he was going to be good for this world, then none of this would’ve happened!”

  
Cas tried to reach out and grab your arm, but you shoved him aside, knocking him to the ground. You quickly ran inside, hurdling up the stairs two at a time. At the top, you looked to the right and saw Kelly, dead on the bed and your mother passed out on the floor. You ran over to her and checked to make sure she was breathing before continuing your search for your target. 

  
You stood and called out, “Sam? Sammy?!”

  
Your brother answered calmly from a room down the hall, “I’m in here.”

  
You marched swiftly towards him, entering the room just as Cas yelled from the bottom of the stairs, “Dean! Stop!”

  
You stepped into the room, ignoring your brother and keeping your focus solely on the monster in front of you, his figure hidden by the shadows. “It’s all your fault,” you muttered just above a whisper before cocking your gun and aiming it directly at him.

  
From your left, Sam cried out, “NO!” as he slapped your right arm, throwing off your aim so the bullet hit the wall behind the vile creature in front of you. He flinched momentarily and once he realized he hadn’t been hurt, he turned towards you, a distorted scream bellowing out from his wide open mouth. His muscles tensed and his eyes glowed gold as a force of power pulsated outward from him, blowing out all the windows in the upper half of the house and levitating you and your brother in midair. 

“_I think I made a mistake._”

  
With one final surge of power, the boy knocked you and Sam back into separate walls with a sickening *_THUD_*. Pain exploded in the back of your head as it made contact with the drywall before you tumbled onto the solid wood floor. Your vision was hazy and the spinning room threatened to cause you to upchuck. Just before you passed out, you swore you heard your girl huff and mumble, “What a dumbass.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
“No!” you screeched at the top of your lungs into the void in front of you. “This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

  
Slowly, a low, stomach curdling chuckle started from behind you. You turned to see Lucifer, covered in dust and struggling to rise up from the ground as he clenched at his stab wound. His balance faltered several times, but finally he was able to stand on his own two feet. 

  
He cackled maniacally and pointed a finger towards you, “You’re stuck here with me now, too. Just you and me, baby.”

  
You gritted your teeth, balled your fists and closed the gap between the two of you within seconds to deliver a massive upper cut to his jaw, knocking him back several feet, “Shut your fucking mouth!”

  
Lucifer landed with a hard *_THUD_* on the ground, coughing and struggling to breathe. You turned back around, returning your focus to where the portal once was. 

  
Panic started to set in as thoughts about what could possibly happen swirled around your head, “_No, no, no, no, no! I can’t be stuck here. Dean is definitely going to blame Jack and who’s going to save Kelly? No, I have to get back to them._”

  
Then, a you had a beyond wildly insane thought. You couldn’t be sure it would work, but you had to at least try, right? You reached out your hands to try and feel for any kind of residual energy from the portal. Your hands scanned the air, desperately searching for any kind of spark or change in the magnetic field. You weren’t sure how much time passed, but it felt like hours. Your lip trembled in sorrow and just as you were about to give up, _there it was_. A tiny, minuscule sliver of the gateway remained in the air, but it’s power was fading fast. 

  
“_Okay, Chuck, Amara or whoever is listening to this. You bought me here for a reason. So, if you still want me to change things, then how about giving a girl a little help? Please?_”

  
You closed your eyes and focused all of your power on the microscopic tear in space and time and tried to picture it opening back up. You envisioned the cold beach, the slightly rundown lake house and Baby just visible in the front yard, but nothing happened. You dug your feet into the ground and struggled to pull more power from deep within your soul, this time choosing to picture everyone you had left behind, including Kelly, Mary, Jack, Cas, Sam and . . . _Dean_.

  
*_WHOOSH_*

  
A huge burst of wind threatened to knock you back, but you managed to stay planted in your stance. Hesitantly, you opened one eye and were exuberant to see the orange light from the rift growing stronger and stronger. You smiled to yourself and as you returned your thoughts to Dean once more, you felt the opening growing wider and stronger. 

  
Suddenly, you heard a flapping of wings far off in the distance and Lucifer groaned, “Great, just what I need.”

  
You whipped your head around to find that five soldiers, no scratch that, five angels inhabiting vessels, had just arrived and were now standing just beyond Lucifer. He was once again struggling to stand, probably to avoid showing any sign of weakness, but the pain from his stab wound was too much. He barely managed to get to his knees before crumbling back to the ground in agony. 

  
Lucifer tried to keep a straight face and cockily waved at them, “Hey.”

  
The leader stared down at him pathetically, “I sense a creature that stinks of Hell.”

  
“Oh, yeah that would be her,” the archangel replied pointing to you. 

  
You glared at him and watched as the angels finally took notice of you. The leader took a few steps forward, “False. Identify yourself. What are you and what are you doing over there?”

  
You smirked and continued to try and expand the rift, “Interpretative dance. Now go away, you’re breaking my focus. But, that’s Lucifer over there. Why don’t you two have a nice long chat, while he can still speak.”

  
“False,” the blonde angel replied, edging closer to you, “You, you look familiar. Yet different.”

  
“I just have one of those faces,” you replied with a humorless laugh. “Now, go away.”

  
“No, no I don’t think I will,” he answered back, staring at you more closely. His eyes widened in realization, “No, you can’t be. You’re a . . . ”

  
But before he could say the words aloud, you snapped your fingers, disintegrating the angels and dismantling the distraction. Lucifer shook his head and actually appeared impressed, “Not bad.”

  
You sneered and tried to drown out his insults, “You’ll never gonna do it you know. That portal won’t last. You’re gonna be stuck here with me, in this desolate wasteland.”

  
With one final push of energy, the rift was fully formed, but you knew it wouldn’t hang on for long. You dropped to your knees, all of your power almost wiped away in the effort to open up your passageway home. You took in a couple of deep breaths to steady yourself and stood once more. You turned to wave goodbye to Lucifer when a fireball landed into the side of the hill to your right. 

  
The ringing of the impact stung your ears, showering the area with broken chunks of rock and debris. The dust momentarily choked you and created a haze that made it difficult to see what had landed. After a few seconds, a bright light illuminated a dark figure and you noticed its wings just as it was tucking them away.

  
“_Fuck, is that Michael?!_”

  


When the unknown assailant came into view, your stomach dropped. It was Michael, in the same vessel he had occupied in the show in the apocalypse world. He ignored you, instead choosing to walk over to Lucifer, who was still grunting out in pain on the ground. 

  
Michael eyed him curiously, “You should be dead. But, looking at those black streaks creeping up your body, doesn’t look like you have too long.”

  
“Okay . . . And who are you and what spaghetti western coughed you up?”

  
“Don’t you know me, brother?”

  
Realization dawned over Lucifer’s face, “Michael?”

  
“And you’re Lucifer. A dying Lucifer, but Lucifer nonetheless. I can feel it. But, how is that even possible?

  
Lucifer nodded towards you, “It’s her fault.”

  
For the first time, Michael turned and took notice of you. His eyes scanned up and down your body, searching for any sign of what you might be. He cocked his head to the side and asked Lucifer, “Is that what I think it is?”

  
“Oh yeah. A venatrix. In the flesh.”

  
Michael started to stroll towards you and you held out a hand warningly in his direction, “Don’t come any closer or I swear I’ll . . .”

  
He scoffed, “What? Hurt me? I can sense you’re weak. I doubt you could even scratch me right now.” He momentarily gazed over your shoulder towards the rift, “And what present do you have for me here?”

  
You took in a deep breath and exhaled sharply, “_Okay (Y/N), we can stay here, fight Michael, probably lose and have the portal close behind us or we can make a break for it and come back with reinforcements._”

  
With neither option sounding ideal to you, you decided to go for the one that would give you the best chance with defeating Michael in the long run. You winked at the archangel and taunted, “Oh, this? This is for me, but don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”

  
With that, you turned and dove into the rift, landing back on the sandy banks of the lake house. You quickly turned, willing the rift to close and before anyone else could escape through it, the portal shut, leaving you alone in the night. The cold blade of the lance of Michael sliced your left hand as you tried to stand up, causing you to groan out in pain. You tried to heal it, but the stress of ripping a hole in space and time had practically depleted your angelic powers. Luckily, it wasn’t bleeding too bad and it didn’t seem to have the same effect on you as it did with other angels. 

  
The backyard was abandoned and the night was still. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out from the house and you just knew that Dean had made a stupid decision. You grabbed the lance to bring it inside and headed towards the backdoor. As soon as you opened the door, the upstairs windows shattered, raining down glass where you had just been. A loud vibration echoed through the house and a strong force pushed back against you as you started to climb the steps towards the second floor landing. 

  
You arrived at the top of the stairs just in time to see Castiel pop out of Kelly’s bedroom and to hear two loud thuds against the wall of the last room at the end of the hallway. Cas stared at your disheveled state in confusion, but accepted the lance you handed to him as you passed by. Just as you entered the room, you saw Dean, struggling to get up, but failing. He finally passed out on the ground and you couldn’t help but to mutter, “What a dumbass.”

A low growl emerged from the darkened corner of the room. You lifted your gaze and from the darkness, you could make out two golden, glowing eyes staring daggers into your soul. You felt Castiel’s hand on your shoulder, “(Y/N), how . . . Why . . . What happened?”

  
You gently brushed him aside, never breaking eye contact, “Later, Cas. Right now, can you go get Jack some clothes please?”

  
“That’s Jack?”

  
“Yes, yes it is Cas. And I’m sure he’s scared and confused, but he has nothing to be afraid of,” you commented before pointing down to the two Winchesters passed out on the floor, “These two, well one of them really, just made a bad judgement call out, of anger I’m sure.”

  
You held out your right, non-injured hand and smiled as Cas left to procure some clothing, “Jack? Do you recognize me? I’m . . . ”

  
Before you could finish, Jack’s head ever so slightly cocked to the head, “Mother?”

  
You exhaled sharply, “No, I’m (Y/N). Your mother . . . I . . . I need to go see her.”

  
He stared closely at you, his gaze softening, “Mother?”

You didn’t want Jack to feel rejected, but there was no way you could take the place of Kelly. You _were_ going to save her. You moved closer, continuing to reach out for him, “Jack I . . . I’ll be whatever you want me to be, but please, call me (Y/N). Is that ok?”

  
He stood up straight and his eyes stopped glowing, “(Y/N). Yes, I remember you. You helped my other mother escape from the diner.”

  
You nodded, “That’s right, I did.”

  
“You were there when the bad woman burned. You helped us then too,” he stated matter-of-factory. 

  
You moved closer and placed your right hand on his left shoulder, “Yeah, that was me too.” 

  
You cupped his cheek and looked deep into his eyes, trying to make sure he was the same Jack you’d hope he was. He stared back, his eyes shining in the moonlight and finally, he smiled innocently, held up his right hand, palm facing forward and greeted you with a cheery, “Hello!”

  
Relief and happiness exploded inside of you as you exhaled heavily, “Hi, Jack. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  
“(Y/N)?” a voice cautiously asked from behind you.

  
You turned and saw Cas standing in the doorway with a handful of clothes. You ushered him over, “It’s okay Cas. Everything is okay. Jack this is . . . ”

  
“Father?”

  
You stepped back and allowed Cas to hand Jack the clothes he had brought him, “It’s Castiel. Here I, I brought you some clothes.”

  
Jack’s lopsided smile was almost too precious to bear. He reached out, taking the clothes, “Thank you, Castiel. Should I put these on . . . now?”

  
You chuckled, “Yeah, uh, Jack, um, most people don’t go around naked.”

  
He nodded in understanding and quickly dressed in the clothes Kelly had bought for him. 

  
“_Crap, Kelly!_”

  
You pulled Cas to the side and whispered, trying to choose your words carefully in front of Jack, “Cas . . . Kelly . . . I, I need to . . . save her.”

  
He looked disappointed, “(Y/N), even if you were at full power, I don’t think . . .”

  
“Oh forget it, Just keep Jack in here while I work,” you replied in frustration before turning to Jack, “Hey, stay here for a minute, ok? I’ll be right back.”

  
With that you turned on your heel and marched towards Kelly’s bedroom. Luckily, Mary was just starting to rouse. You bent down and brushed the hair out of her face, “Hey, hey, take it easy. You okay?”

  
She rubbed her temple, “I, I don’t know. Kelly was in the middle of labor and pushing and then this golden light flowed up and out of her and I was blasted against the wall. I think I hit my head.” She reached up to the back of her skull and when she pulled her hand around, her fingertips were covered in trace amounts of blood. 

  
You leaned forward and examined her wounds, “Yeah, you got a cut back there. We’ll get Cas to heal you up.”

  
“Cas? Why can’t you do it?”

  
“Because I have a feeling it’s going to take everything I have to try and bring Kelly back. You missed a lot while you were out.”

  
You stood up and held out your right hand to help her stand. That’s when Mary noticed the gash on your left hand and your bruised and bloody knuckles, “I take it not everything went as planned?”

  
“Not exactly,” you whispered ruefully. After Mary was steady on her feet, you turned your focus to Kelly. You’d purposely avoided looking at her until you absolutely needed to. Your arrogance and overconfidence had allowed you to let down your guard around Lucifer for just a split second and now, you knew it would take everything in you to bring her back. 

  
You closed the gap between yourself and the bed, taking a seat on the edge. She looked serene in her white nightgown, her beautiful brunette hair fanned around face and her mouth plastered into a tiny smile. Her hands were folded together atop her stomach. If she was breathing and if her eyes had been closed, you would’ve sworn she was just sleeping. 

You felt the literal weight of the world on your shoulders as you stretched out your right hand and placed it over top of hers. Already, Kelly felt cold and stiff under your touch. You closed your eyes and tried to focus like you had when you brought Renny back to life. But, something was very different this time. No matter how much you searched or how hard you tried, Kelly’s soul was just . . . gone. Not only that, but her body was destroyed on a cellular level. Even if you could pull her back, there’s no way her vessel could sustain life anymore. Desperately, you summoned all of your power and tried to fix her, but either you were too weak or she was too far gone, and nothing changed. 

  
You squeezed her hands tighter and mournfully whispered to yourself, “No, no. This can’t be happening. No . . .”

  
A comforting hand on your shoulder interrupted you, “(Y/N), she’s gone.”

  
Your throat went dry and your voice broke as you started to hyperventilate. You looked up to Cas, “No, C-C-Cas, I-I _promised_ her. I _fucking promised_ her I would save her. She was counting on me.”

  
“It’s okay, she knew this was a possibility,” Jack interjected from the doorway.

  
You whipped your head around, wiping stray tears from your eyes, “Jack! No, you shouldn’t be in here. You don’t need to see this.”

  
He slowly walked over to sit on the other side of the bed and placed his hand on top of yours, “She told me, before I was born, that this could happen.”

  
Your lip trembled, “So, she really didn’t think I could do it? She didn’t believe me?”

  
“No, it’s not that,” Jack shook his head, “She just wanted me to be prepared to live in a world without her. But she told me that even if she was gone, I wouldn’t be alone.”

  
You sobbed, “Jack, I’m so, so sorry. I had to use a lot of my power to get back here but even if I was at full strength, I don’t know that I could . . . ”

  
Cas squeezed your shoulder and you couldn’t help but to stand and hurl yourself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably as the emotions of the day bubbled over. You shamelessly wept, “I promised her Cas. I promised her. What good am I if I can’t even save one person? I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

  
Cas rubbed your back and tried to soothe you, but you were far too gone and continued to blubber and repeat your apologies over and over to him, to Kelly and to Jack. Finally, Mary pulled you into a tight hug, “Hey, hey it’s ok. It’ll be okay. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  
You were too exhausted to fight anymore, so you let her wrap you under her arm and lead you towards the bedroom door. You did make sure to stop and give Jack a tight hug, apologizing once more, promising to see him in the morning, “Cas will get you set up with a bed for the night and anything else that you need.”

  
You could see the pain in his eyes, but there was also a steely resilience there as he hugged you back and whispered in your ear, “Thank you (Y/N). You’ve already done so much.”

  
“I’m just sorry I couldn’t do more.”

  
He squeezed you fiercely one last time and gave you back to Mary who started to usher you out once more. However Cas called out, “Uh, (Y/N), do you want me to heal that cut on your hand?”

  
“It’s from the lance, Cas. I don’t think you can heal it.”

  
Mary pulled you in close, “Don’t worry, I’ll get her all taken care of.”

  
With that, Mary led you quietly into the bathroom. She drew you a bath, the hot water quickly fogging up the mirror, turning the air thick with humidity. You tried to compose yourself, but were unable to stop the silent tears that continued to flow down your cheeks as you silently scolded yourself. 

  
“_I’m so stupid. I could have saved her. I shouldn’t have been so stupid. I failed Jack. I failed him!_”

  
Mary rubbed your back after checking the water temperature, “Shhh, no you didn’t. He knows, we know, that you’ve done your best.”

  
You blinked a couple of times, “Did I just say that out loud?”

  
Mary nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, yeah you did. Look, there’s fresh clothes and plenty of towels. Take a bath and then I’ll bandage up your hand. Tomorrow will be a new day.”

  
“Right, yeah . . . ” you replied just audibly before Mary kissed the top of your head and left you to clean up. 

  
You couldn’t help the soul crushing guilt that pressed down on your chest as you slowly struggled to undress. You slid into the tub, the hot water briefly soothing your tired muscles and warming your cold bones, but your thoughts immediately returned to Kelly and how you had failed not only her, but Jack. Each breath stung sharply with regret as you continued to weep silently, too dehydrated to actually produce anymore tears. You could only hope that Jack would truly forgive you and you vowed to be, maybe not a mother, because you definitely didn’t want to take Kelly’s place, but you would do you damndest to protect him as fiercely as you tried to protect Castiel and the Winchesters. Speaking of . . . Dean. How could Dean shoot at Jack like that? You shuddered with anger and vowed to have a long talk with him tomorrow morning when he finally woke up. 

  
“_Idjit._”

  
After cleaning the lingering blood from your left hand, you did your best to wash your body and hair with your one good hand before drying off and slipping into the underwear, sweatpants and T-shirt Mary had graciously provided you with. Not even bothering to pick up your dirty clothes, you exited the bathroom and headed towards your bedroom. You could hear Cas and Jack downstairs, talking quietly. Their bonding was a brief respite to your feelings of failure. 

  
Inside your and Dean’s room, Mary was waiting with the first aid kit Dean kept in the Impala. She patted the space beside her on the bed and smiled warmly. You tried to return the smile, but failed. She expertly cleaned your wound, the only sound breaking the silence was a small hiss you elicited when she applied the antibiotic ointment. Once your hand was bandaged and wrapped with a dressing to secure it, she tucked you in and rubbed your back until you fell asleep. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
There she was, tumbling, falling forward into the rift with Lucifer’s meat hooks tightly wrapped around her arm. She screamed, arms flailing at her side as she frantically searched for something, someone, to grab onto and hold her back. Then, with a flash, she was gone, leaving you screaming out for her and reaching the portal just a fraction of a second too late. Then suddenly, the scene reset and there she was, tumbling, falling forward again and again and again on a continuous loop. 

  
There was no way to tell how many times the scenario replayed over and over in your head. Thankfully, the vicious cycle was broken by an outside voice calling, screaming out to you, “Dean? Dean! Wake up!”

  
You jolted awake, your vision temporary blinded by the sun’s bright light pouring in the busted out windows. You held up a hand, trying to allow your eyes to adjust until you were finally able to focus on the face in front of you. Your throat was dry and your voice hoarse, “S-Sammy?”

“Dude, you were practically yelling. Are you ok?”

  
You pressed one hand into the wooden floor, supporting yourself as you tried to sit up. You could feel your heart racing and you realized you were covered in a thin layer of sweat from the way your T-shirt clung to your back and chest. You wet your lips, “Yeah, yeah, just a nightmare.”

  
You wiped the sleep away from your eyes as you stood up with Sam’s help, the memories of last night quickly flooding back to your consciousness. You frantically looked around the room and noticed that it was just the two of you, “Sam, where is he? Where’s Cas? Where is everybody?”

  
“Dude, I don’t know. I just woke up,” he replied cracking his neck.

  
You checked your watch and saw it was going on ten o’clock, “Well come on, we have to find this nephilim. Who knows where he is. He could be halfway across the country torching Chicago at this point.”

  
You pushed Sam out the door and down the stairs, peering into each room upstairs as you passed, only to find them empty. You and Sam took the stairs two at a time, too fast to register the sounds of pleasant breakfast conversation or to really take in the heavenly aroma of pancakes, eggs and bacon wafting through the morning air. However, as soon as you landed at the bottom of the stairs, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Sam froze in place and you were moving too fast to stop yourself from bumping into him, knocking into him so he stumbled forward a few feet. 

  
“Jesus Dean, watch out!”

  
“S-sorry, Sam,” you stammered out just as the rest of the room went quiet. There at the table was Cas, your mother and Jack eating breakfast with another figure who had her back to you. But having memorized every curve of her figure, you knew exactly who it was, even from behind. But, how? It wasn’t possible. You made eye contact with Jack and his eyes shone bright with the same golden light as last night. He stood up from his chair, knocking it to the ground. She whipped her head around and saw you and Sam standing at the bottom of the stairs. 

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Jack, placing a hand on his arm, “Jack, Jack listen to me,” she warned soothingly, “Remember, we talked about Sam and Dean. They’re friends?”

  
Jack seemed to relax at her touch and huffed a few more times before his breathing returned to normal and his eyes stopped glowing. After a few more seconds, he nodded, “Right. Sorry, it was an instinct.”

  
You could hear the small grin in her tone, “It’s okay. Pick up your chair and finish your breakfast. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

  
Jack obeyed and went back to his meal while she stood up and sauntered over to Sam, smiling brightly at him as she went in for a hug, “Morning Gigantor. Glad to see you’re okay.”

  
Sam quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace, “You, uh, yeah you too. What are you doing here? How . . .”

  
“I’ll explain later. Right now, your brother and I need to talk.” 

  
Sam released her and headed over to the breakfast table to join everyone else. She smiled sweetly and slowly stalked towards you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. For a moment, you forgot to breathe, forgot how to speak or move and just waited for her to jump into your arms like she had with Sam. 

  
“_How is she back? This is a dream, right? This has to be a dream?_”

  
Out of nowhere, she scowled and grabbed you by the ear roughly, pulling you into one of the bedrooms and kicking the door shut with her foot before shoving you up against the wall. 

  
“_Okay, not a dream. Real. Very real._”

  
She tugged on your ear once more before slapping your chest and holding you in position by pointing a stern finger at you. She screeched, “What the hell were you thinking, Dean?!”

  
Your ear burned from her assault and there was a definitely residual ringing from her screaming. You cocked your head to the side, rubbing your ear to try and ease the ache, “Ow! What the hell was that for?”

She pulled your ear again, “That’s the least I could do to you! You shot at poor Jack! He was barely born, his mother dead in the other room and you shot at him! So I repeat myself. What. The. Hell. Were. You. Thinking??”

  
So many questions were circling your mind, making it hard to form a coherent sentence. Plus, the way she was standing there, all worked up, face reddened in anger, chest heaving with each breath she took in, a few pieces of stray hair falling out of her ponytail . . . God she was gorgeous. Without thinking, you reached up your right hand to cup her cheek and tried to pull her closer. 

  
She clicked her tongue against her cheek and slapped your hand away, “Uh, uh. No, no Dean. We are having this conversation.”

  
You reached out and grabbed her left hand, ignoring her question instead to ask your own, “How are you here?”

  
She grunted in pain and pulled her hand up to her chest. That was the first time you realized she had a bandaged wrapped around her palm. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath through her nose and exhaling out her mouth, “Careful.”

  
You gingerly reached for her wrist and this time, she didn’t pull away, “(Y/N), what happened?”

  
“It’s nothing. Nothing important,” she replied, her anger ebbing away as you removed the bandage to inspect her gash.

  
“Sweetheart, this is far from nothing. Why aren’t you healing? What happened?” you asked in a panic. 

  
“No, you need to tell me why you shot at Jack,” she retorted, pulling her hand back to cover it with the bandage once more, “You tell me that and I’ll answer you.”

  
You ran a hand through your hair in frustration. It was still a new feeling to have someone else holding you accountable for your actions and not backing down until she got her answers. She cocked her hip to the side and tapped her foot several times before answering her own question, practically reading your mind, “You were pissed off, weren’t you?”

  
You licked your lips and looked at the ground, unable to answer her. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily, “Dean, you were mad I was gone and he was the only person your thick skull thought to take it out on, right?”

  
You choked out, “I-I . . .”

“UGH!” She turned and paced around the room, “Dean Winchester, I love you, but I swear sometimes you make me wanna pull my hair out. Everything I’ve done since I’ve gotten here, besides getting close to you or protecting the people I love, has been to save Jack. It was my fault I got pulled into the other world. My fault, not anybody else’s. And then you go and attack him? Why . . .”

  
“You were _gone_,” you answered in a quiet, broken sob that stilled her in her place. You lifted your head up and wiped away a stray tear that you didn’t realize had fallen down your cheek. “Sweetheart, I, I haven’t felt that lost, that broken since I thought I lost Sammy for real for the first time Before . . . before I made my crossroads deal.”

  
Her voice was soft and soothing, “Dean . . . ”

  
“You were gone. And I, I didn’t know what to do.”

  
“Well shooting someone wasn’t the answer.”

  
“Felt like it to me at the time,” you retorted snarkily. 

  
“Dean . . . “

  
“I’m sorry,” you uttered before taking a chance and tugging her towards you by grabbing onto the belt loops in her jeans. She resisted a little, but ultimately let you pull her in closer.

  
She pressed her good hand onto your chest to keep some distance, “Yeah, well, I’m not the one you need to apologize to. Jack, he’s been through a lot.”

  
Her eyes were wet with tears as she stared off behind you, lost in thought. You tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear and willed her to look at you, “Sweetheart? What happened?”

  
“I managed to open up the rift with my powers. Ran into a couple of angels and Michael showed up at the end.”

  
“Wait, _Michael_, Michael. The archangel?”

  
“Yeah, the one and only.”

  
“Did you take him out?” you asked hopefully.

  
She sniffled, “No, I was too weak by then. I left and Lucifer wasn’t dead, but dying. I mean, you stabbed him with the lance, no way he can survive that. Right?”

  
“Not if it’s meant to kill him, no. I, wow, um I just can’t believe you opened the rift by yourself.”

  
“Me either. It took everything out of me and like I said, I cut my hand on the lance when I came back across. It’s healing, but slowly. I saw the windows get busted out and saw Cas running into the house just as I got back. I came upstairs just in time see you pass out.”

  
“And you couldn’t have put me in a bed for the night?”

  
She scoffed, “You. Shot. Jack! No, you deserved to sleep on the floor.”

  
“And Sam? Why’d you leave him high and dry for the night?”

  
“Guilty by association,” she replied half sternly, trying to hide a playful smile.

  
You rolled your eyes, “So, then what happened?”

She went serious once more, “I met Jack and he’s everything I expected.” She pointed a finger at your chest again, “And you _will_ be nice to him. He’s a good kid.”

  
You fought back the urge to roll your eyes again and simply stated, “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.”

  
“That’s right. Especially because I, Dean . . . I couldn’t save Kelly.”

  
You did a double take, “Wh-what do you mean?”

  
She looked up at your through her eyelashes and whimpered, “I’ve been trying to hold it together all morning for Jack and everybody else, but,” she shook her head frantically back and forth, “I couldn’t do it. I don’t know if it was because I was too weak from trying to get back here or if it was because her body was absolutely decimated on a microscopic level.” She let out a choked sob, “I don’t know how I’m still crying, but I promised her Dean. And I, I couldn’t save her. I was supposed to save her and I let myself get pulled over with Lucifer and I failed her. I failed everybody.”

  
You stooped down so you were eye to eye with her, “Hey! Don’t you say that. Don’t you dare.”

  
“It’s true!” she cried out in frustration, “We don’t even know if Lucifer is dead for sure and Kelly still died.”

  
“(Y/N)! Look around! You saved Crowley. You saved Cas. You, you saved my mother from getting pulled over into that apocalyptic nightmare.”

  
She shook her head, “It’s not enough. I had the deck stacked in my favor and I . . .”

  
“Shit happens okay. You can’t save everybody,” you said pleadingly, begging her to see just how much she had accomplished. 

  
She scoffed and chuckled humorlessly, “Yeah, okay. Is that how you react when you feel like somebody dies on your watch and somebody else tells you that you can’t save everybody?”

  
She had a point there and she knew it when you didn’t immediately answer. She cocked an eyebrow, “See? I’m right.”

  
You wet your lips, “Sweetheart, it’s a hard pill to swallow, I know. But please, don’t beat yourself up. It sounds like Jack forgave you and I’m sure everyone else will understand one mistake.”

  
She sniffled and wiped her nose on her long sleeve flannel, “I did already speak to Cas, Mary and Jack this morning. Filled them in on everything. Hopefully they’re telling Sam because I, I just don’t think I have it in me to go through this story again.”

  
You kissed the remaining tears away from her cheek and she repaid you with a sheepish smile. You stared at her in admiration, “I can’t believe you were even able to get back here by yourself. That’s, that’s pretty awesome.”

  
She shrugged and that playful sparkle was back in her eyes. She ran her hands up your arms until she clasped her hands behind your neck, “Well, it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve hopped between realities to find you.”

  
You brushed your nose against hers, “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” She closed her eyes and nodded her head in agreement before resting her forehead on yours. You let her stay there for a few minutes so she could recenter herself and let her breathing return to normal. Once she was calmed down, you leaned forward and captured her lips with yours in sweet, lingering kiss. You brushed your lips across her cheek, each eye, her nose and then her other cheek before planting one final kiss on her voluptuous lips once more. 

  
“You good?”

  
She bit her bottom lip, “No, but I’m better. You ready to apologize to Jack?”

  
“As long as you feed me, woman.”

Her wide smile was a welcome sight, “Deal. I was, and still am, feeling out of it, so your mom actually cooked breakfast with some direction from me.”

  
“Really?” you asked in disbelief.

  
“Mhm. She’s becoming quite the chef,” she replied proudly. 

  
You held out an arm and she hooked hers through it, “Well, let’s go eat.”

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
You approached the table with trepidation, highly aware of Jack’s subtle resistance against meeting the man who had shot him less than twelve hours ago. Everyone else, besides Cas, was busy eating, but quieted down when they saw you and Dean appear. You squeezed Dean’s hand and gently nudged him forward, “Jack, this is Dean. Dean, this is Jack.”

  
Jack held up his hand for his signature greeting, “Hello.”

Dean nodded his head in Jack’s direction, “Hey kid.”

  
When a few seconds of awkward silence passed, you threw your hip into his and narrowed your eyes at him. He got the message and immediately continued, “So, uh look.” Dean awkwardly ran his free hand back and forth through his hair, “I uh, may have acted a little too rashly. I may have been a little upset and um, I’m sorry for trying to shoot you, ok?”

  
Jack looked back and forth between you and Dean several times before responding, “Okay, sure. No problem.”

  
“Really?” 

  
“Really Dean. If (Y/N) says I can trust you, then I trust you.”

  
You smiled smugly up at Dean before leading him over to two free chairs at the table. He quickly fixed a plate and everyone worked on getting on the same page. Thankfully, Sam had been filled in on all the details so you wouldn’t have to go through spilling your guts and crying like a weeping woman yet again. You were in no condition to transport everyone back to the bunker like you had at the beginning of the week and even though Castiel could’ve easily flown everyone back one by one, everybody decided to stick it out together and endure the long road trip back to Lebanon. Jack was especially excited to see more of the country. However, there was one final piece of business you had to conduct before you could leave Washington. 

  
Mary and Jack graciously volunteered to clean up the kitchen while Sam, Dean and Cas worked on building a funeral pyre for Kelly. You worked on packing up in order to get ready to leave as soon as possible, forcing yourself into Kelly’s room to gather up the scrapbooks and electronic messages she had left behind for Jack. You took it upon yourself to wrap up her body in a white sheet, silently apologizing over and over to, but vowing to take care of her son. 

  
An hour later, everyone was gathered outside to say their goodbyes. Dean placed Kelly’s body in the center of the pyre before picking up the red plastic container off the ground and soaking the wooden structure in gasoline. Mary and Cas hung back while you stood with Jack in between you and Sam. You reached down and held Jack’s hand in yours, intermittently rubbing your thumb back and forth across the back of his hand. 

  
“It’s gonna be fine. We’re all gonna be fine,” you chanted several times, mostly to try and reassure yourself. 

  
Sam shuffled from one foot to the other before addressing Jack, “You wanna say anything?”

  
Jack appeared confused, “I . . . What do you say?”

  
Sam thought about it for a moment before answering softly, “Thank you. You say thank you. And you say you’re sorry. You hope they’re somewhere, um, without sadness or uh, pain. You hope they’re somewhere better. You say goodbye.”

“And she is in a better place Jack,” you confirmed, looking to Cas for support, “Right Cas?”

  
Castiel nodded in agreement, “There’s definitely a special place in heaven for your mother, Jack.”

  
Jack grasped your hand firmly in his as Dean stepped in line beside his mother, playing with his lighter, “Goodbye Kelly. You were a hell of a woman and a fighter ‘till the very end. You’ll be missed.”

  
Dean expertly clicked the wheel of the simple, silver Zippo, sparking a flame. With a flick of his wrist, he effortlessly tossed the lighter onto the pyre, igniting it to give Kelly a proper hunter’s sendoff. The man-made construction was ablaze in seconds and the five of you stood there in silence until the flames eventually fizzled out. 

  
It was still early in the afternoon when everyone finally piled into the car. Everybody had been mostly silent, caught up in their own thoughts, still processing everything that had occurred over the last twenty four hours. Jack was in the back between Cas and Mary while you were given the privilege of riding shotgun between Sam and Dean. 

  
A few minutes into the ride, Dean slid his right hand off the wheel and affectionately massaged your thigh. You smiled, placing your hand on top of his just as Mary spoke up from the back, “So, what’s the plan now? Do we go back to that apocalypse world to finish off the job or save your friend Gabriel first?”

  
You rubbed the back of your neck with your free hand, “I think we should look into saving Gabe first. He’s been with Asmodeus long enough.”

  
“Plus, you probably need some time to rest, right?” Dean added. 

  
“Exactly. I’m in no shape to go off fighting a war right now. Give me some time and I’ll be ready to kick some angel ass. No offense, Cas.”

  
Cas smiled affectionately, “Nome taken, (Y/N).”

  
“I wanna help too,” Jack commented hopefully.

  
You yawned loudly, “Thanks Jack, that’ll be a big help. When we get back to the bunker, we can come up with a game plan for everything. Plus, we do have a few small cases to handle between now and then. Maybe that’ll be a good way for you to get some practice in hunting with your powers, only if you want to Jack.”

  
“Sure, of course,” he replied, leaning forward to pat you on the shoulder. 

  
You yawned again and Sam chuckled lightly. Dean asked “You doing all right over there, sleeping beauty?”

  
You rubbed your eyes and fought back yet another yawn, “Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine. I may need some coffee later, but I’ll be okay.”

  
Cas leaned forward to explain, “(Y/N), until your grace restores to a certain level, you’re going to feel lethargic. It’ll probably be at least a few days for you to feel somewhat normal.”

  
Then, telepathically, he offered, “_(Y/N), do you want the grace you gave me?_”

  
Immediately you responded, “_No, no save that for emergencies only._”

  
Castiel nodded his head and settled back into the black leather bench seat in his position behind Sam. The younger Winchester raised his left arm and wrapped it protectively around your shoulders. He tugged you close to him, “Come here, nerd.”

  
You furrowed your eyebrows, “What? What are you doing?”

  
“Dean’s gotta drive and I know he’s not gonna focus if you’re over there lolling your head back and forth, trying to sleep. Lay down on me and get a few more hours of shut eye.”

  
You smirked, “You’re not scared of me snoring or accidentally drooling on you?”

  
He shook his head, pulling you into his side, “If it gets us home quicker, I don’t care.”

  
“Go ahead sweetheart, lay down. Take a nap, get some sleep and we’ll wake you when we make a pit stop,” Dean said encouraging from your left side.

  
You finally relented and nestled into Sam’s firm chest. He patted your shoulder and Dean stroked your hand. Overhead, Dean silently thanked his brother with a knowing look and Sam nodded in return, letting him know it was no problem. Soon enough, the gentle rocking of the car and soothing sounds of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “_Simple Man_” had you almost falling asleep. Just as you were about to slip away . . . 

  
*_**BANG**_*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you with another cliffhanger, but like I said, the next chapter is already 90% finished. I just have to proofread and add gifs! 
> 
> Kudos and comments ALWAYS make me smile and fuel my muse. 😃 
> 
> If you’ve made it this far in the story and have never left a comment, please feel free to drop one below and let me know that you’re enjoying my tale. See you REAL soon!


	49. That’s My Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unknown assailants disrupt your travel plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is the follow up chapter that was just too long to post with the previous one. Hope you enjoy!

*****  
**Reader’s POV**

The barbaric, grinding sound of metal crashing into metal disrupted your peaceful oasis. 

  


“Son of a bitch!” Dean screamed roughly as glass shattered to your left. Baby’s tires screeched violently as the car went into a tailspin. The centrifugal force was enough to push you closer towards Sam and slam the top of your head into the passenger door. Dust and smoke billowed up around Baby as Dean desperately turned the wheel, slamming on her brakes to try and still her. The smell of burnt rubber invaded your senses as you grunted, trying to brace yourself for an impact, but your limbs flailed wildly about in vain. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, yet sped up at the same time. 

  
Without warning, the back end of the Impala smashed into an unknown obstruction, jolting the car in the opposite direction and blowing out the glass on the right side of the vehicle. Miraculously, you had the good sense to close your eyes as shards of debris rained down across your face and scalp, leaving little cuts and scratches splattered across your flesh. You tentatively brushed the stray fragments of glass away from your eyes before opening them up to survey the scene around you. 

  
You stretched your muscles and arms, searching for any indications of a broken bone or more serious injuries. Your temple was pounding, as if some miniature imaginary construction worker was jackhammering against your skull from the inside, but other than that nothing seemed to be broken. You pressed one hand into the bench seat to sit up further and a sharp sting in your left side stopped you in your tracks. 

  
You hissed at the pain and looked to see a triangular, sharp piece of glass impaled in your side. You gingerly inspected the wound and once you were satisfied it was just a flesh wound and didn’t appear to have caused any real damage, you took a deep breath and yanked it out quickly. 

  
A hiss escaped your lips, “Motherfucker!” 

  
Luckily, after holding pressure for a few seconds, the wound stopped bleeding. The world was eerily quiet . . . too quiet for your liking. You reached up and saw blood trickling down Sam’s forehead. He wasn’t moving and when you called out his name and shook his shoulder, he didn’t move. You placed two fingers against his carotid and watched the rise and fall of his chest. His heart rate was normal and his breathing was even. Sam didn’t seem to have any other injuries, so you turned around to assess everyone in the back seat. Mary and Jack were slumped together, their faces covered in little abrasions from the windows blowing out. Luckily, they both seemed to be breathing just fine, but neither one was awake. Castiel’s head was lolled back against the seat, but he quickly stirred when you shook his knee. 

  
“Cas? Cas are you okay? What the hell happened?” you asked frantically. 

  
He groaned and leaned forward, “I, I’m not sure. Dean was just driving along and a car slammed into his side.”

  
You turned back around to address Dean . . . but his seat was empty. The driver’s car door had been ripped from its hinges and Dean was laying on the ground just outside of the car. You quickly scrambled out of the Impala, ignoring the unrelenting pounding in your skull. More glass cut into your hands as you moved across the bench seat towards Dean, but that didn’t matter. He looked so small, so helpless laid out on the asphalt with his bowlegs stretched out underneath the car. His jeans were torn and his shirt had ridden up, exposing a small strip of flesh just below his belly button. His face was marked up and blood was slowly dripping out of his mouth. 

  
You bent down beside him and stroked his cheek, careful not to move his neck as you checked his breathing and pulse, “Dean? Dean? Come on babe. Wake up. Wake up and let me see those pretty green eyes.”

  
No response. 

  
You leaned down and gently brushed your lips against his, “Dean? Please wake up. Wake up and let me know you’re okay!”

  
Still, nothing. You bit your lip and tried to remain calm, “_He’s breathing, there’s not a lot of blood, he’s fine. He’ll be fine. Goddamn it, why do I have to be so drained right now?!_”

  
You called out to Cas in the car, “Hey Cas? How are Mary and Jack doing? What about Sam?”

  
His car door squeaked open as he exited the Impala, “They’re fine. I’ve healed their wounds. They must be in shock, but they’ll be fine. How’s Dean?”

  
“I think he’s okay. Just knocked out too,” you replied, rubbing Dean’s cheek with the back of your hand. 

  
The sound of several pairs of shoes crunching glass from behind you interrupted the conversation. Someone kicked a car rim, sending it spinning dangerously close to Dean’s head. An animalistic growl exploded out of your throat as you turned to see three familiar figures walking towards you, smirking. In the distance, their tan SUV was pulled over to the side of the road, thick, black smoke bellowing out from the engine like a volcano ready to erupt. 

  
The female in the middle tucked her mid-length black hair behind her ears and ran her tongue across her teeth, “Well, well, well. Castiel? We knew you’d be here with the nephilim, but we didn’t actually expect to find the fabled venatrix that Joshua told us about, with you We couldn’t actually believe it when he said it. After all, any angel that finds a venatrix is supposed to report them directly to heaven. But, I guess we shouldn’t have expected too much from you though, Castiel.”

You stood up, probably a little too quickly. The world spun violently around you, your breakfast threatening to make a reappearance. Luckily, Castiel was at your side and helped to stabilize you. You closed your eyes, and the woman in front of you laughed, “Ha! She doesn’t appear to be living up to the hype. Can’t handle one little car crash?”

  
“Miriam, what are you, Conrad and Lily doing here?” Cas asked angrily in his gravelly voice. 

  
You knew exactly why they had shown up and exactly what they wanted. With everything else going on, you had completely forgotten about the three angels that had come after Jack the morning after he was born. You must’ve managed to slip out of the lake house before they found you, but they obviously had no trouble in tracking you down. 

  
“They want Jack,” you answered, rage boiling up inside of you. 

  
The male angel, Conrad, was dressed in a light grey pinstripe suit with an unscathed white button down shirt underneath. His disdain for you and everything that wasn’t an angel was evident. He looked at you as if you were beneath him and replied, “This has nothing to do with want. We’re here for the boy. He’s ours.”

  
“That’s right,” Miriam added, “Bieber over there? He can do almost anything. He’s our golden ticket.”

  
You straightened up, trying to make yourself as tall as possible, “He doesn’t belong to anybody. You’re not taking him.”

  
Miriam pouted her lips and spoke with faux sympathy, “Aww, don’t worry about it momma bear. You’ll be coming with him too.”

  
“The fuck I will!” you howled back, “Look, I know you want him because you’re a dying breed. Not that you don’t deserve it. A lot of you, well, really all of you except for the guy next me, are nothing but hyped up, grade A, flying douchenozzles. But, I understand heaven needs angels to run and not fall into complete chaos.”

  
The three of them looked at one another, slightly taken aback at how much knowledge you had of their situation. You took the opportunity to try and warn them, “Walk away. It’s bad enough you’ve pissed me off by slamming into my family, crashing our car and delaying our trip home. So I’m giving you a chance. Walk away and when _I’m_ ready, I’ll reach out to you and we can work out a deal. If Jack can make angels, then you know I can. We can help each other.”

  
The three of the angels had the audacity to laugh in your face. Lily spoke up, “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”

  
“You aren’t in charge here cupcake,” Miriam added. “Now you can either come with us or we’ll kill everyone, then take you and the poor little orphan with us.”

  
“I don’t think so,” you said before reaching out a hand to snap your fingers and dust them away. But, nothing happened. They twitched and shivered, but they didn’t disappear. You tried again, and still nothing happened. 

  
Cas leaned in and whispered, “(Y/N), I don’t think you’re strong enough.”

  
“What’s the matter? Your ass can’t cash the check your mouth wrote?” Miriam snickered. 

  
You cracked your neck and took in a deep breath, “Nope, just gonna have to kill you the old fashion way.”

  
Castiel’s blade dropped out of his trenchcoat while Lily retorted, “You really think you can take us on in your condition?”

  
You held up a hand and waved at them in a ‘come hither’ motion, “Bitch, I could take you with one hand tied behind my back, blindfolded. Give me your best shot.”

  
In a flash, Castiel lunged towards Conrad, their angle blades pressed up against one another, clanking, as they battled for dominance. Lily ran towards you, her weapon pointed straight at your heart. You swiftly grabbed her wrist and managed to snatch a handful of her hair, yanking her head down until you slammed her face into your knee. Her blade dropped from her grasp and she tumbled to the ground. You picked up the blade, spinning it around to get a feel of its weight and balance before marching off towards Miriam. 

  
Miriam jabbed her blade at your center, but you spun, dodging her attack and slicing through her right jacket sleeve at the same time. Her grace briefly shone through the wound and she hissed in pain. You sliced through the air and made contact with her leg, eliciting another cry from her. She managed to land a punch across your face with her left hand, sending you stumbling backwards. You jumped forward, trying to stab her, but she dodged your attack and knocked you in the head with the hilt of her blade. 

  
Stars blinded your vision momentarily, long enough for Lily to sneak up behind you, pinning your arms to your side. Miriam took the opportunity to grab you by your face. Her mouth twisted into a sadistic smile.“See, you’re not so tough,” she said snarkily before running her blade through the side of your abdomen. 

  
“GAH!” you cried out as white hot pain shot out from your wound. She twisted the knife, pulling another anguished wail from your lips. 

  
Castiel must’ve seen what happened, because you heard him cry out your name before the sounds of flesh pounding on flesh interrupted him. You used Lily as leverage to lift up both of your legs, despite the intense burning in your abdomen, and kicked Miriam back and away from you. Once your feet made contact with the ground, you took the opportunity to throw your head back into the blonde angel’s face. Her nose cracked and she finally released your from her grip. You quickly whipped around on your heels and snatched her neck to hold her in place as you drove her own angel blade up and through her chest. She howled in an unearthly voice as that familiar bright, white light shown through her vessel as her grace burned out of existence. 

  
She crumpled to the ground and you turned back around just in time to block Miriam’s next attack. You grabbed her right arm, twisting it to knock her blade out of her grip and landed several punches across her smug smile with your right hand. You tightly grasped her neck and backed her up until she was shoved up against the SUV. She chuckled, turned her head to the side and spit out the excess blood in her mouth along with a couple of teeth. 

  
You held the angel blade to her throat, “Any last words?”

  
You felt her swallow before replying, “I’d turn around if I were you.”

  
You listened for a moment and found that the scene was once again eerily quiet. You spun Miriam around and off the van to act as a shield between you and whatever she was looking at, making sure to keep the blade pointed at her throat. Your eyes widened in horror when you realized Conrad had managed to trap Castiel. Poor Cas, his trenchcoat was covered in blood and you could tell Conrad had managed to get a few good blows in, marking up his face in cuts and bruises that were already starting to form. He had your best angel friend in front of him, blade pressed dangerously against his throat. 

  
You couldn’t help but to scream out, “Cas!”

  
Miriam laughed manically, “Well, looks like we have a bit of a showdown here. What are you gonna do (Y/N)?”

  
“Shut up!” you hollered, pressing the blade impossibly closer to her throat. 

  
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Conrad called out, slicing a knick on Castiel’s throat, his grace momentarily flashing through the cut. 

  
You tossed Miriam aside and threw the blade down in the opposite direction, holding up your hands in surrender, “Let him go Conrad. Please. Please just take me and leave Castiel alone. Leave Jack and everyone else alone. Just take me. _Please_.”

  
Miriam rose up, snatched the discarded angel blade and took you hostage, pressing the tip into the wound on your abdomen. You screeched out in agony, letting your head fall forward as a few tears fell rand down your bloody cheeks. She whispered evilly in your ear, “Your ours now, bitch.”

  
“LEAVE HER ALONE!”

  
You whipped your head up just in time to see Jack standing at the trunk of the Impala. His eyes were shining that beautifully, brilliant golden hue that indicated he was tapping into his powers. He gritted his teeth and held out his right hand in front of him. Immediately, circles of gold pulsated outwards not only towards Miriam, but Conrad as well. 

They both dropped their angels blade, their bodies straightening out as if they being drawn and quartered in medieval times. They squealed in horror, their faces twisted and contorted into an inhuman form before they finally disintegrated in a blast of bright light. 

  
Jack relaxed against the trunk and Castiel ran to his side. You picked up the discarded angel blade to add to your weapons cache and soon joined them, stumbling and flopping down onto the ground next to Dean with your back against the Impala when you finally reached them. Dean stirred at your side, “What was that, kid?”

  
You somehow managed to muster the strength to reach out and stroke his leg, “Dean! Dean, you’re okay?”

  
He sat up slowly, despite your protests, insisting he was fine. He knocked the excess glass away from his jacket, “What was that? What happened?” He looked to his left and saw the ramshackled remains of Baby. His voice was gruff and full of rage, “Who the hell hit my car?!?”

  
“Angels,” Castiel answered quietly, “They were after Jack and (Y/N).”

  
“Son of a bitch! Is everyone okay?”

  
“Sam and your mother are still sleeping, but everyone else seems okay for the time being.”

  
You applied pressure to your stab wound and groaned in pain, “I hate to be a damsel in distress here guys, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna need a little medical assistance. Miriam got a couple of licks in, including a pretty nice stab wound.”

  
Dean leaned over and lifted up your shirt to examine the wound, “Hell, yeah that doesn’t look too good.”

  
Jack stooped down beside you and tentatively reached out a hand, “May I? I could try at least?”

  
You tried to push his hand away, “Jack, you’ve done so much. You’re so new to your powers, it’s okay if you can’t.”

  
“Let me,” he insisted with determination in his eyes. 

  
You nodded your head and Jack placed his hand over your wound. For several seconds nothing happened. You felt him press a little more firmly on your wound and you did your best to hide your pain. Jack huffed in frustration, so you reached up and placed a hand over his. 

  
You gave him a small smile, “Relax. Try to clear your mind of everything else around you. Try to focus solely on what you want to accomplish and just let your intent flow from your mind to your hand. Relax, Jack. _Relax_.”

  
He took in a deep breath, trying to follow your instructions. A little bit more time passed with nothing. But then, slowly, his hand started to warm up, sending a pleasant fire throughout your core. A sense of euphoria overwhelmed your senses, much like that night in the park with Dagon, when Jack’s presence first flowed through you. You felt every scratch on your face, the stab wound and even the gash on your left hand start to heal. You gasped in disbelief and soon enough, Jack had healed all of your wounds. 

  
He pulled back his hand, which was surprising free from blood and admired his handiwork. He was beaming with pride, “I did it! I really did it!”

  
You leaned forward and hugged him tightly and thanked him, your words slurring, “Thanks Jack. You . . . did it. You really . . . did . . it.”

  
Exhaustion overwhelmed you and your eyelid felt like they were being weighed down with a ton of concrete. You slumped forward into Jack and the rest of the world disappeared. 

  
*****  
**Dean’s POV**

  
Your blood ran cold as her speech stuttered and she went lifeless in Jack’s embrace. He gingerly lifted her up and leaned her back onto the Impala. You turned her head and cupped her face in between your hands, “Sweetheart, come on. Talk to me!” 

Castiel leaned down and touched his middle and forefinger to her temple, “She’s just sleeping Dean. She put too much stress on her body. She _needs_ to rest.”

  
A noise from inside the Impala startled you, causing you to instinctively reach for your gun. You pointed it towards the open front seat just in time to see Sam slowly scooting across the bench seat. He painfully groaned, “What, what happened?”

  
You sighed with relief, “Sammy, you okay?”

  
“Yeah, yeah I think so. What’s wrong with (Y/N)?”

  
You took in a deep breath, “Apparently you and I slept through all of the excitement.”

  
Over the next half hour, your mother eventually woke up and was no worse for the wear. Cas patched you up and then then you and Sam pushed the SUV the angels had crashed into you with into the woods. Thankfully, the engine eventually stopped smoking so no one would even know it was there unless they purposefully went looking for it. Castiel managed to convince your mother and Jack that they too needed Enochian warding carved into their ribs for the time being, as to avoid any further unwanted angelic attacks. 

  
You and he agreed that your girl needed it too and (Y/N) didn’t even flinch when he bent down to place a hand on her chest, branding her ribs in the protective spells as well. You were greatly concerned, but Castiel once again reaffirmed that she was simply sleeping. The five of you determined that it would be best for Castiel to transport everybody one at a time back to the bunker in order to get off the radar as soon as possible. However, first he assisted you with getting set up with a rental car, ironically a Kia Soul as that was all they had on the lot, and moving (Y/N) to a hotel to rest. 

  
“Honey,” your mother asked just before Cas was about to transport your girl to the room you had booked for the next several days, “Why don’t you two just come home with us?”

  
“Cas said she needs some rest, so I’m going to make sure she gets some rest. Plus, I need to stick around, find some way to get Baby back to the bunker and find replacement parts for everything those flying dicks destroyed on her. That’ll take me a couple of days at least.”

  
She gave you a quick hug, “Okay, well, call if you need anything.”

  
You nodded in agreement and pulled Sam aside, “Keep an eye on the kid will you?”

  
“Dean, it sounds like he did a lot for us back there, especially for Cas and (Y/N).”

  
“I don’t know. Could’ve just been an instinct, knee-jerk reaction.”

  
“Exactly, an instinct to protect us,” Sam argued. 

  
“Sammy just, please, keep an eye on him until we get back home.”

  
He sighed, “Whatever you say, dude. See you soon.”

  
You patted him on the shoulder and Castiel and him were gone in the blink of an eye. You spent the rest of the evening calling around and arranging for a flatbed to haul Baby back to the bunker in Kansas. It certainly cost a pretty penny, but even in her sleep, you girl was coming through for you and helping you take care business. Three days passed and (Y/N) slept without ever waking up, your anxiety slowly building with each passing hour. Thankfully, she would move an arm occasionally or turn to lay on her stomach or side, which helped to somewhat relieve your nervousness. 

  


Back at the bunker, your mother had grown antsy with nothing to do, so she offered to go hunting for demons or any other creature that might have information regarding Asmodeus’ whereabouts. Even though Crowley had promised to close the gates of Hell, you all were sure there were some demons lingering about on Earth who might be able to give you a heads up on where the Prince of Hell was hiding. 

  
Meanwhile, Sam had been busy helping Jack settle into his room, teaching him about basic lore and, well everything in life. He may have looked like a young adult, but he was still very new to this world. Castiel had added extra angel warding to the bunker and was busy trying to help Jack understand and control his powers, but he wasn’t making much progress. 

  
On the fourth morning, just as the sun was starting to peek through the shimmery white curtains of the hotel’s penthouse suite, your girl stirred in your arms. She licked her lips and rolled to her back, stretching her legs out and her arms above her head, shaking her limbs like a cat waking up from a nap. Her eyes fluttered briefly before she squinted, trying to block out the sun’s harsh light. She rolled over and turned into your chest momentarily before she leaned back, grabbing your shirt and looking frantically around the room. 

  
“Where,” she coughed uncontrollably, her voice dry and strained, “Where . . . *_cough_* *_cough_* . . . . are . . . *_cough_* *_cough_* . . . we?”

You reached behind you to grab a glass of water you happened to have on the nightstand and passed it to her. “Here, drink up,” you ordered sternly. 

  
She accepted your gift and guzzled the water ravenously, chugging the entire glass in one gulp. She swallowed the last drink and took a moment to catch her breath. This time, her voice sounded more like her own, “What happened? The last thing I remember was Jack healing me. Where is everyone?”

  
Before you could answer, she turned her head to the side, releasing a monstrous belch into the air. She turned back to you and beamed proudly, “Much better.”

All the pent up fear and worry over the last few days dissipated in a flash as the two of you fell into a fit of laughter. You took the empty glass from her and placed it back onto the nightstand before answering, “Everyone is healthy and home safely. No one was really hurt, except for Baby. She’s gonna need some work. We’re at a hotel not far from the crash site.”

  
She sat up, leaning against the headboard to survey the room, “Uh, yeah, I get we’re, uh, not back at the bunker. Why are we here and everyone else back there?”

  
You joined her, sitting up as well, pulling down your bunched up black T-shirt, “Because, Cas said you needed to rest.”

  
“Uh, I could’ve easily slept back at the bunker. Why’d you bring me here?”

  
“I wanted to make sure there would be no interruptions. None,” you explained, taking her hand in yours. 

  
“Dean . . . ” she started to chastise. 

  
But you cut her off, “No, (Y/N)! No! I wasn’t going to risk it. You’ve pushed yourself too far this last week, trying to take care of everybody. Fighting off angels, archangels and rescuing yourself from apocalypse world . . . ”

  
She raised her voice, “That’s my job Dean! That’s what I’m here to do! To change things, protect the ones I love!”

  
“Well then it’s my job to protect you!”

  
She scoffed, “You’re doing a pretty piss poor job of it right now!”

  
“How so?!”

  
“You’re yelling at me!”

  
“Well you’re yelling at me!” you retorted angrily. 

  
The two of you stared at each other, eyes narrowed, lips pressed in a firm line. Finally, the corner of her mouth twitch and she let out a little giggle. She turned her head, covering her mouth to try and hide it, but it was too late. She laughed out loud, but her voice was still held a modicum of seriousness, “Damn it Dean. You’re so fucking stubborn.”

  
You cupped her chin, rubbing your thumb along her lower lip, “Yeah, well so are you, princess.”

  
She smiled and kissed your thumb with her beautiful pink lips that you hadn’t been able to touch in days. You started to lean in to kiss her, but she pressed a hand to your chest, holding you back, “Dean, how long have I been asleep? I probably have wicked morning breath.”

  
“Four days. And I don’t care,” you answered, before pushing forward once more and gently laying your lips onto hers. She relaxed into the bed, pulling you down with her by the crown of your head. Endorphins happily flooded your nervous system as she parted her mouth, allowing your tongue to slip past her lips and slide along her own soft, wet tongue. 

  
She moaned into the kiss and pulled your head back, separating the two of you. Her cheeks were flushed and she spoke breathlessly, “Dean, I like where this is going, but I have some human needs to address.”

  
You winked at her before lowering your mouth back onto hers, “Me too.”

  
She allowed you to kiss her for several more seconds before bucking up against you, knocking you off to the side, “No, really.” She looked slightly embarrassed, “Like, I need to pee. And,” she bent over, clutching her stomach as it grumbled loud enough for you to hear, “Food. I need food.”

  
You chuckled and rubbed a hand up and down her side, “Okay, okay. You handle the hygiene and I’ll run out and get us something to eat. You want breakfast or something more substantial like lunch?”

  
“Yes,” she answered with a firm nod.

  
“That’s not an answer.”

  
“Dean, I don’t care what you bring me. I’m _starving_ and I’m sure whatever you get will be great.”

  
You kissed her once more, “All right, your wish is my command.”

  
*****  
**Reader’s POV**

  
Forty five minutes later, you had not only managed to relieve yourself, but you took advantage of the hotel’s jacuzzi tub and treated yourself to a nice long bath. You threw on some underwear and a bathrobe, brushed out your hair and braided it into two pigtails. Stepping out of the bathroom, the plush carpet of the hotel room made it feel like you were walking on clouds as you strolled over to join Dean in the kitchen area. The cold, tile floor sent goosebumps shivering up your freshly shaven legs. Well, you couldn’t be sure if it was the floor or the way Dean’s eyes scanned you hungrily as you sauntered over to where he was leaned against the counter, eating a powdered donut. You were pretty sure your heart stopped for a minute as you ogled him, admiring the way he looked in his grey T-shirt and blue jeans, all topped off with a white and red striped flannel shirt. He crossed his left leg over his right before licking the remnants of his powdered donut off his fingers with his luscious tongue and taking a sip of his coffee. 

  
“Where’s my coffee?” You asked, unable to take your eyes off his lips. 

  
He offered you the cup in his hand, “This one is actually yours.”

  
“Hey,” you replied teasingly before taking a drink, “I thought you only liked your hot bean water?”

  
He shrugged, “Yeah well, I had to make sure it was the right temperature so it wouldn’t hurt you. You’re such a delicate little thing after all.”

  
You lightly punched him in the gut, “Hey, I thought I was a badass?”

  
He lifted a hand and twirled one of your braids curiously in his hand before sucking in air through his teeth, “I don’t know sweetheart. Do badassess wear their hair in little pigtails like this?”

  
You sat the cup of coffee on the counter behind him, pressing your body into his, enjoying the flapping of butterflies in your gut as you lingered for a few extra seconds before stepping back. You took a pigtail in each hand and with faux innocence replied, “Oh? You think these are pigtails?”

  
Dean swallowed hard and parted his lips before darting out his thick, pink tongue to wet his lower lip, “What else would you call them, sweetheart?”

  
You smiled sweetly, gently biting your lower lip as you moved forward tilting up your chin until you were mere inches from his jaw. You deftly unpopped the button of his jeans and slide his zipper down. You raised up your hand to your mouth, never breaking eye contact with Dean. His forest green irises darkened as he watched you slowly lick a strip along the palm of your hand before dipping it back down, past his jeans, underneath the waistband of his boxers and firmly gripping his swiftly hardening cock. 

“_Fu-UH-ck_,” he erotically moaned, leaning his head back to expose the flesh of his neck, a few faint freckles standing out in the sunlight, as you started pumping him in your hand, stopping at the tip every couple of strokes to circle the tip with your thumb. 

  
You smiled in satisfaction, “Nope, wrong answer. Come on Dean, they’re not pigtails, tell me what they are.”

  
He snapped his head forward, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes closed, his breath hot and humid across yours lips, “I, mmm, I, I don’t know. What do you call them?”

  
You took your free hand and ran your it through the short hairs along the nape of his neck, gently pulling his head back so you could access his jaw. Already, a thin sheen of sweat was forming across his statuesque jawline. You took the opportunity to lick the salt off of him, leaving sloppy kisses in their wake. 

  
“Damn, I forgot just how fucking delicious you taste, Dean.”

  
You tried to sync up the rhythm of your kisses with your strokes and within minutes, Dean was putty in your hands. Something about the way he let loose and let you take control always turned you on. You could feel him hardening in your hand, precome starting to leak out of his head. He surprised you when he cupped your ass, squeezing you tightly through the thin fabric of your robe. He leaned down and hungrily captured your bottom lip with his teeth, sucking it ravenously into his mouth so he could taste you with his tongue. You gasped and momentarily released his cock to slide your other hand up his chest, urging him to pull his flannel and shirt off. 

  
He let your lips go briefly to undress his top half and you took the opportunity to sink to your knees. He tried to pull you back up, but you shook your head feverishly, “Nuh uh. You took care of me, now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

  
In a flash, you yanked his jeans and boxers down until they pooled around his ankles. You took his dick in your mouth and lifted it up, flattening your tongue along the underside and running it up the prominent vein that was visibly beating in sync with his heartbeat. Before retuning the focus to his shaft, you took each ball into your mouth, running your tongue back and forth to gently massage it, before sucking it harshly as deep into your mouth as you could. 

  
The guttural roar that erupted from deep within his chest sent arousal flooding to your panties, surely leaving a damp spot on the freshly laundered lingerie. Dean gripped the side of the countertop so hard that his knuckles were turning white. With an exaggerated *_POP_* you released his sack from your warm, wet mouth only to flatten your tongue against the head of his cock. 

  
He continued to hold onto the counter, but bent forward, keeping his eyes closed, “Jesus CHRIST (Y/N). _Shi-iii-it_.”

  
You rubbed one hand up his twitching thigh while the other languidly continued to pump his engorged cock, “What’s the matter Dean? Can’t you look at me?”

  
A whimper escaped his lips, stirring the pool of liquid pleasure in your core, “Not right now sweetheart. It’s been too long and you feel . . . Jesus, your hands . . .”

  
You stopped stroking and his eyes popped open, “Wh-why’d you stop?”

  
You winked and reached out for one of his hands, pulling it from the countertop and towards your pigtail, “Because Dean, your hands are in the wrong place.”

  
He swallowed hard and tentatively reached out with his other hand to grab your other braid. You kissed the tip of his cock and he shivered, but maintained eye contact. You wet your lips and told him as seductively as you could manage, “Now, these aren’t pigtails, these . . . are _handlebars_.”

  
“Fuck,” he breathed out, wrapping your hair tightly around his fists. 

  
“So, hang on and make sure to use them properly, cowboy.”

  
With that you lowered your mouth back down on his reddened, leaking head, greedily slurping up the precome that continued to drip out of the tip. For a while, Dean was content to let you control the pace, letting your mouth bob slowly up and down his length, using his little moans and grunts of ecstasy as clues to direct you to where he wanted to be touched the most. When you pressed two fingers roughly into the flesh just behind his sack, he grunted and pulled tightly on your hair, “Shit, yes!”

  
Dean started to rock his hips gently back and forth, but the way his abdominal muscles were clenching and relaxing in rhythm, you knew it wouldn’t be too long until he was ready to come. His grip strengthened around your hair, the sharp sting on your skull just on that precipice of turning from pleasure to pain. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked hard, trying to breathe in through your nose and ignoring the growing ache in your jaw. 

  
You took your free hand and lightly stroked up and down Dean’s thigh as he began to pick up the pace at which he was fucking your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with almost every thrust. After a few more strokes, he cried out, “Fuuuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna come. I’m . . . I’m . . .”

  
You reached up and circled your thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock, twisting small little circles to give him a little more stimulation. With a few more erratic pumps into your mouth, he came _hard_, screaming out your name, forcefully shooting one, two, three, four thick ropes of cum down your welcoming throat. He dropped his hands to the side, allowing you to milk his dick for every last bit of his sweet essence. When it became too much for him to bear, he reached down, pushing you back by your shoulders, “Okay, okay, stop.”

  
He looked down at you, his eyes half hooded, drunk on his post orgasmic bliss. You smirked evilly, opening your mouth to show him his cum lingering there, before making a show of swallowing it for him. His jaw went slack in awe, but you saw his dick twitch out of the corner of your eyes, as you delicately wiped your mouth on the robe. 

  
“Such a fucking dirty girl,” he rumbled huskily. 

  
You slowly stood up, grabbing his hips for leverage, “Only for you Dean. So, how about my brunch now?”

  
You stood, turned around and admired the spread of food on the table. Dean had really gone all out, brining in a variety of donuts, bacon, a few burgers and waffles. Before you could decide what you wanted to eat, you felt a strong hand on the back of your neck. He turned you roughly back towards him, shoving his mouth ravenously onto yours and pushing you back and away to an unknown destination. You felt him step out of his jeans and underwear as he directed you to his goal. When you pressed back against him, he scooped you up into his arms, bridal style, and marched on. 

  
He had a wild look in his eyes that sent shivers up and down your spine, making your pussy clench with want, “Where are we going?

  
He pulled his mouth up into a side grin before sucking his bottom lip in and raising his eyebrows at you, “You really think I’m gonna let you pull a stunt like that and just walk away?”

  
You tangled your hand in the back of his hair, “Well, it was for your benefit. Just thanking you and all for being so sweet to me.”

  
He dropped you down onto the bed, “Yeah, well I’m not done with you yet.”

  
“You can’t be ready to go again,” you replied slightly terrified of the sexual, predatory gaze in his eyes. 

  
“Not yet, but I haven’t tasted you in almost a week, and that’s just not jiving with me, sweetheart.”

  
Before you could respond, Dean crawled over the bed, practically shredding the robe away from your body. Your nipples quickly hardened under the hotel room’s air conditioning and Dean wasted no time into latching onto one, rolling the other in between his fingers. You threw your head back, you spine bowing up into the air as you reached out and held onto his biceps for something to ground you. The sudden exposure and assault on your sensitive buds had your pussy walls fluttering around nothing. You subconsciously grinded up and into his thigh, your clit searching for any kind of friction. 

  
Dean smiled against your breast, “I can feel how wet you are for me babe. Fuck, you’re dripping. I think you enjoyed sucking me off, maybe even more than I did.”

  
Your voice was shaky, “What, what can I say. I do love your cock, Dean.”

  
He practically growled and rutted his hardening member against your inner thigh, “Fuck yeah you do. And I love giving it to you. But, first things first.”

  
You whimpered at the loss when Dean set back on his haunches, but soon squeed with excitement when he savagely tore your panties off, mangling it into an unrecognizable piece of fabric that was quickly discarded onto the floor. Without any pretense, he dove down in between your legs, licking a thick stripe up your sex before latching his lips firmly around your clit. 

  
His onslaught had you shaking and trembling as if you just stuck your finger in an electrical outlet. You forgot how to breathe and your mind went blank until you were a puddle of sensations, all your attention focused on Dean and what he was doing at the precipice of your thighs. You pinched your own nipples, high pitched whimpers falling from you lips as you tried to squeeze your legs tighter around Dean’s head. However, he used one forearm to forcibly keep your legs opened as he continued to rain down pleasure on that sweet bundle of nerves. 

  
The taut coil in your core violently snapped as Dean continued to lick voraciously at your center, sending you spiraling over the edge in a wordless cry. You frantically bucked up against him, trying to stop his assault, but he continued to suck and nip at your clit, wracking your body with yet another orgasm, just as powerful as your first. 

  
You pushed at the top of his head and protested breathlessly, “D-D-Dean, please, I-I can’t.”

  
He finally titled up his head, his mouth shiny with your juices and a boyish grin plastered on his face, “Too much?”

  
You took in deep breaths, your chest heaving and lungs burning as you struggled to catch your breath, “Yes, I just need, need a minute.” You relaxed your legs and slumped down onto the bed. You felt him tug at your robe that was still pinned underneath of you and use it to wipe off his face before crawling up over you, your body still trembling with mini aftershocks. His chest pressed down onto you sweat slickened breasts, causing the two of you to stick together as if you were glued. 

  
His plump lips sweetly met yours in a passionate kiss that allowed you to taste yourself mixed with the lingering flavor of his powdered donut and your coffee. He bumped his nose playfully against yours and gently pressed the tip of his hot cock at your entrance, pulling a feral, wanton moan from deep within your chest. 

  
He ran a hand up your thigh, along your hip, and your side until he was lovingly caressing your cheek, “You okay? Are you ready?”

  
His sparkling eyes stared into your soul, those breathtaking crinkles folding up in the corner as he smiled sweetly at you, waiting for the all clear signal. And in that moment, you fell a little more in love with Dean Winchester. If you had told him to wait, or that it was too much, too fast, he would’ve stopped. Despite having his rock hard erection millimeters from entering you, he would’ve pulled back and stopped what he is was doing if that’s what you really wanted. 

  
You leaned into his touch and whispered softly, “Oh yeah, I’m ready.”

  
Dean pressed his lips to you once more and entered you more slowly than you would’ve expected. You were still extremely sensitive and you could tell he was already close to coming for the second time. Dean took his time, dragging himself in and out of you leisurely, never breaking eye contact with you as the two of you slowly built towards your next climax. He braced himself with his left forearm on the bed and wrapped his right arm around your back, pulling you closer to him. You raked your nails up and down his back, leaving faint white scratches in their wake. You hooked your legs around Dean, digging your heels into his ass, but still, he took his time, making sure to relish in each little thrust, every little moan and grunt of pleasure you called out as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. 

  
“Dean, I’m, fu-UHH-ck, I’m so close,” you warned as he started to snap his hips a fraction faster. 

  
“Good,” he panted before leaning down and burying his face in your neck, “Go ahead, let go, sweetheart.”

  
He pounded into you roughly and erratically, and your muscles seized up once again as your pussy quaked with its third orgasm in less than twenty minutes. Your toes curled tightly, almost to the point where you gave yourself a Charlie horse, but at the last second, you relaxed. Dean wasn’t far behind you, crying out your name in the hollow of your neck as your tight, wet cunt clamped down on him, giving him his own release. 

  
Dean collapsed on top of you, and you ran a hand through his wet hair, massaging his scalp absentmindedly. He chuckled, “I guess that shower you took was pretty pointless.”

  
You kissed his cheek, “Nah, I got to show you the handlebars after all.”

  
He turned his head so he was nose to nose with you, “You do realize you can’t wear your hair like that again without expecting me to attack you.”

  
You quirked an eyebrow up at him, “Hmmm, is that a threat or a promise?”

  
“What do you think?”

  
“I think . . . I plan to find out.”

  
“What would people say if I told them you were secretly a filthy little tease,” he pondered aloud with admiration. 

  
“I’d deny it and they’d believe me.”

  
“You think?” he asked in an octave higher than his normal voice. 

  
“Probably. But for now, I think I need a quick nap before we eat.”

  
“The food is gonna get cold,” he warned before sliding to the side and pulling a thin sheet to cover your exposed bodies. 

  
“I think I’ve got enough juice by now to warm it back up, so we’ll be fine,” you said nestling into his chest, blissfully exhausted. 

  
His husky voice teased you, “Oh yeah, you’re definitely juicy.”

  
“Pervert.”

  
“Takes one to know one.”

  
You kissed his chest, “Are you calling me a pervert?”

  
He cupped your ass and pulled you closer to him, “Hell yeah, sweetheart. And I love it.”

  
You hummed in appreciation, “I love you Dean.”

  
“Love you too, sweetheart,” he replied softly while lightly caressing your back as the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms, euphorically worn out from your sexual reunion. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No cliffhanger this time! Just when the reader thought maybe she was out of the woods, another angelic twist from above throws wrenches into her plans. How will everyone deal with the angels wanting the reader and Jack for their powers? Only time will tell. 
> 
> I can’t tell you how happy everytime I get a comment, even if it’s with constructive criticism, I love hearing your feedback! The next update will probably be at least a week or two as I have to hammer out the details. Things happening here may affect the story many, many chapters down the road, so I have to plant the seeds carefully. 😉 
> 
> Everyone stay safe and thank you for your continued support! ❤️


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